The Cousin
by ErieDragon
Summary: The second novel in the Radditz Bloodline saga. The story of his daughter, Ona, a young girl raised by aliens on another planet, she eventually comes to Earth and befriends all our favorite heroes while finding a strange romance among them.
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own DragonBall Z or any of it's characters. All original characters and fanfiction are © ErieDragon 2002.

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Author's Note: This is an Ona's POV of her recounting a story told by her mother, Khune later in life. A basic tale told with Ona's own input, I hope this is a proper introduction to the second part of my saga.

~*~

The Cousin

Prologue

My name is Ona.

I know that isn't important, but it has relevance. My life is a ride through time and space of spectacular proportions, so perhaps I play a small role in the universe.

I always like to believe so.

I am a Saiyan, a member of a proud, nearly extinct race. My tail is a physical proof of this, my mind and pride real truths. Power was always a valued trait among us, but I have learned to realize that power, strength, is not everything.

Sometimes the heart and mind are more deserving of trust.

"It was those warm nights during the dry season when my mother would stand in the endless meadows of tall grass. She would gaze at the stars, her eyes glazed, her face tainted with longing. As a child, I always felt something missing inside me when my mother would stand in the prairie outside our tent, her tail a sullen snake. 

"When I was small, my mother once told me my father's name. Radditz. I would repeat it, the rolling 'Z' a sweet comfort to my less-than two-year-old mind. I said it over and over, the name making my mother growl at me and leave the village for the rest of the night. 

"As I grew older, I became curious. It was a discomfort to see my mother stargaze at night, a morose statue against the deep black sky. Once I asked her why all my Letan friends had fathers, and I didn't. I expected a harsh reproach, but she instead picked me up and told me how I came to be.

"My mother spoke fondly of papa, I was surprised to discover. They were best friends even as small children, she was six years old if I remember correctly, who grew up together on my home world of Vegeta-sei. She would grin and tell me of their adventures, getting into trouble with short-tempered neighbors and even each other. 

"I never knew for sure what happened to my mother's parents. She never once spoke of them. Perhaps she just had never found them again, or was an orphan. She was raised by her sensei, who I believe to this day made her different from other Saiyans.

"When I lived on Leta as a child, I did not so much mind the hairy aliens that were my friends (who also wore silken robes that generally masked the unpleasantness) as the loneliness. It was well and good to live with my iron-willed Saiyan mother, but the two of us were on our own. I remember seeing my mother's head droop as memories flooded back to her during the story. 

"My mother lived in a time when the Saiyan race and most of the conquered universe was under the control of the great tyrant, Frieza. She can rightfully hold the pains of her life against him. 

"When my mother was twelve, she was assigned a mission to leave Vegeta-sei and cleanse a "hostile" planet. To Frieza, she was just a tool, another minion... My mother's sensei was not like other Saiyans, and it rubbed off on her when she encountered the Letas. Perhaps it was her knowledge that she would have nothing on Vegeta-sei except my father, and he was not guaranteed to still be there, or maybe it was just her nature that encouraged her to protect the vulnerable race.

"I don't think I'll ever know, I didn't really know my mother that way. To me, she was just an iron-willed mother and fighter, I never saw her sensitive side until... Well, that's later in my story.

"Papa only a few times discussed his past with me, and very briefly. He knew I was smart enough to understand, but delving through his memories was painful to him. I remember my father setting me on his shoulder one evening as we watched a herd of Horned Gigglers pass by. He told me about growing up with my mother, but lost his nerve when he reached the reminiscence of her leaving him as a teenager. 

"Vegeta-sei was destroyed only days after my father left, I was told. I never saw my home planet myself, so I did not have the deep attachment that my parents did... My mother more than papa, I think.

"My grandfather, my papa's father, told him that my mother was dead. This was an assumption, of course, but it allowed my father to think past her and go on to grow up under the rule of Frieza. 

"My mother had one amazing quality about her I admired; her ability to manipulate the weaknesses of others to her own advantage. It was a definite fighting skill, one I wish I had inherited. She would toss about her hair and dress up in leaf-and-branch armor, blasting away Frieza's puny warriors. She let a few escape, for the sole purpose of telling Frieza and their fellow minions of what one called her, the "Kami Ghost." 

"Papa always enjoyed a challenge. He usually sparred my mother, and battles between them could become so heated that a decent part of the landscape would become a rocky devastation. He enjoyed training me, teaching my four or five-year-old self ancient Saiyan energy techniques.

"The challenge this "Kami Ghost" presented to him was enough. My mother stared at the moon, her eyes clouded in sadness when she recounted her reunion with my father. I knew that although she swore his name and relinquished her bond with him every night, she missed him. 

"I wish I could have been there to see his first encounter with the Letas. My mother told me about my father wearing the long, white Letan robes, complete with lightning-like stripes across it. But they couldn't stay there forever, and papa knew it. 

"There was only one way to save them, and that was to undermine Frieza. My mother always was a technology buff, one for building and rewiring things. They only knew one way to save the Letas...

" "The Ship of Horrors," my mother always called it. Frieza's ship, I think she had a few displeasing experiences there. She hacked into his mainframe and deleted all knowledge of Leta, but the rebuke came soon after I was born.. But that's later in the tale.

"Frieza never questioned my mother's existence, for they had an elaborate tale ready in case they were questioned... But the tyrant underestimated them as Saiyans and believed they were too unintelligent to construct a faux pas. So, my parents began their lives as minions of Frieza, planet "cleansers..."

"My mother never told me much about how she and papa got together. The best relationships begin with friendship, she said once. I suppose she felt herself lucky in love at first, although he was not an ideal mate at to begin with. She said that being with him was purely instinct to her, and actions always spoke louder than words. 

"I think once my mother attempted to teach me about Saiyan bonding. She was modest, but would also add that it was nature, and when the time came it would come to me. I never minded the way she kept me in the dark, always for my own good I suppose.

"When I was still unborn, my parents were actively working. Neither me nor my mother could ever figure out how I survived such jostling, a miracle within a miracle. Of course, mum would never admit something like that, she always portrayed me as a curse. But, of course, this was trademark Saiyan pride at work, which flowed through my very blood. 

"This same Saiyan pride largely affected my father, but papa once said that when my mother was in danger, every thought of pride disappeared. All that mattered was her and my survival, and I know he truly loved us, especially my mother.

"She always found my need to draw amusing. Once, she described a race of aliens she called the Ceruleans. My mother described one of them which she had known while I was still inside her, and he was perhaps the reason I made it. Her vivid narrative allowed me to draw a small sketch of a creature she called "Jan-sun," a picture which she hung on the inside of the tent before a wind devil blew it down. 

"My mother would tell me about the various aliens she had met throughout her life, and the only one she actually trusted was one of Frieza's medical minions. This surprised me at first, but he was yet another reason I made it to infancy at all. Papa, of course, was even more protective of my mother while she carried me. He forced her to stay hidden until he had done enough "overtime" to take a few months off. This surprised me more than anything I think, even at a young age when I didn't even know my father.

"Believe it or not, I am really an Earthling. I was born here, in a small mountain valley I have yet to find. My mother was very fond of the place, where she and my father spent some of their best days. She spent hours describing the air, the grass, the trees, the animals... 

"I've always felt sad about being born so late, in a world without my own people besides my mother and father. There were others, but none of them I knew of or would be allowed to meet. This, perhaps, was for the better, if my mother was one of the supposedly gentler Saiyans. 

"Sometimes I wonder if my parents' life would be different without me. My mother would still be alive, perhaps my father too. She would've knocked some sense into him before he got himself killed by his own brother... I'll never know. I asked my mother once, but she gave me a good verbal beating then embraced me, telling me I was all she had left and nothing else mattered. It was probably one of the few times she was emotional, for she always said that emotions were a Saiyan's worst enemy.

"Although I could tell she was saddened by the risen memory, it pleased her to remember. She described my father's blatant insanity during my birth, and then the spine-chilling calmness afterward. My mother said that I was probably the best thing to happen to papa as well, for he even stared down a deer when it approached him while he paraded me about. Sometimes I wish I could still be with him, even though I only knew him for one small year of my young life...

"As a baby, I imprinted his face into my mind. My parents returned to Frieza's ship, and apparently he had figured out my mother had tampered with his mainframe computer. She would be tried for treason, and executed.

"I remember how my mother tore her eyes away from her steady stargaze, her cheeks moistening from the uncontrollable tears. My father denied being associated with her, and she saved herself only by fighting free of her guards and leaving with me in a pod where she wouldn't be followed.

"Papa told me once about the Nageki, which means the Sorrow. Saiyans may be prideful killers, but true love attachments run deep. My mother bore deep hatred for my father after that, and he knew it. He described in horrific detail how it impaled his very heart, and all he remembers from that blistering time was being pinned to a bed with metal bonds and feeling himself howl to a universe without mercy. I hope never to have to experience such a Saiyan curse.

"My mother raised me among the Letas, which was the place I called home for the first five years of my life. She kept my father pretty much a secret from me, and I never bothered to ask about it until I learned reason at about four years. 

"Papa searched the universe for us for a very long time. When he came back, I remember him telling my mother he had come to Leta looking for us five times. That's when I recalled my mother grabbing me out of my friend Em's tent and tucking me away, dropping her energy level and watching everywhere intently, as if there was a dark, immediate danger lurking. 

"The was scared at first when I saw my father. But suddenly, it registered... I remembered him, even from my brief connection with him as a baby. I think the only reason he stayed was because of me... My Letan friend and I had a small part in my parents rebonding. 

"A single year we were together, us, as a family. Papa was proud, irritable, and downright dirty, but he was my papa nevertheless. He would pester my mother endlessly, and vice versa, but you could tell from a glance they enjoyed each other. When I watched them on warm nights, sitting in the prairie grass outside our tent, they were not just mates but best friends. Their tails mingled, and they were comfortable just in each other's presence.

"My mother became sick. A Letan disease called the Shivers. I found out of mum's imminent death only a month before the village healer estimated that it would occur.. But to this day, I believe my father was more devastated than I ever was. 

"My parents became so close in those last few weeks, I never had the nerve to see my mother while papa was there. It scared me, gave me spine-chills, seeing him kneeling over her day and night. 

"Then the day she asked to see me, and said goodbye. She wasn't due to leave this world for another week, but I think some deep recess of me knew I was going to leave before she did. 

"I can't remember my father's words, as if they were a faint dream. I know now it was merely a goodbye."

I finished my story, sighing and sitting down to rest my tired feet. My mother and father were a strange love story with a sad ending, a tragic lovers' Romeo & Juliet. Sometimes, even now, I wish they were still with me. But at least I have the knowledge they are together in the next dimension, and through all their bickering they are happy.

But even with my Saiyan pride, I can't say I don't miss them.

~*~

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I know it isn't much, merely a summation of "Even the Ruthless Fall in Love..." But I feel it has extremely significant value to the story of Ona. 

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Dedications - Vegeta's Gyal, thank you so much for all of your input. The picture reviews are great, and your fanfics always bring a smile. 

- Mizu Megami, thank you as well. Here is the sequel you asked for. 

- All my FanFiction.net reviewers, my last but not least gratitude. Your many reviews to "Even the Ruthless Fall in Love" were helpful and encouraging.

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My New Schedule - I feel having a deadline is the best way to get things done. I'll try to post a 10 page chapter once a week, and sometimes more time may be required. The next chapter should be out by Monday, April 22 if all works out well. I'm taking Saturday, April 20 off (4/20, if you don't know what that is, don't worry about it) and I may get a little behind. 

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Something to Check Out - You can see my drawings of Ona and Khune by checking out my attached fanart. 

Also, see the fics by Vegeta's Gyal: Something More, a creative A/U story about Pan and Daikon (Vegeta's youngest son). Unexpected Love,_ also an intriguing Bulma/Vegeta get together._

See my other fics, My Way, a songfic to "My Way" by Limp Bizkit, and my take on the Bulma/Vegeta get together.

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And of course, read Even the Ruthless Fall in Love! Thank you everybody!


	2. A Place Called Home

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Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own DragonBall Z or any of it's characters. All original characters and fan fictions are © ErieDragon 2002.

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Author's Note: We are now switching to my normal third person storytelling. I may start adding a few Japanese words, but I'll have a few brief translations.. -Sometimes all you need to say is "Aishiteru."-

~Makú ga aku.

The curtain rises. ~

~*~

She awoke, blinking profusely as she tried to regain her vision. Even with her eyes open, all was dark beside a dim, gray light filtering in through a small window. Soon, she could make out her surroundings as her eyes adjusted; quilted padding surrounded her on all sides, and the pattern broke only in a curved, baseball pattern to her left. Suddenly, she felt a strange sensation, as if she were lying sideways. She sat up, her face level with the window, which shed a dim light onto her young face.

She was inside a pod.

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"Goodbye, my daughter," she faintly remembered her father's harsh voice, as if it were an almost forgotten dream. Her mother... Her mother had been dying. Who know how long the little girl had been there, perhaps her mother was already dead. 

Either way, she had to get out of that suffocating ship.

Ona slowly pushed open the hatch, stepping out onto wobbly legs. She slipped, bracing her palms into the lower arc of the crater, which extended from her central spaceship. She got to her feet and progressed out of the artificially-formed basin and onto flat, grassy land.

Ona yawned and stretched, clearing her eyes of the debris sleep bestowed upon her. She took in her surroundings slowly; the trees were tall and thin, only wearing leaves and branches at the very top. The grass was made of various shades of blue; from emerald teal to deep navy, the long blades rippled in a soft breeze, creating a cyan rainbow across the small meadow. 

The small, forest-haired girl crouched in the tall grass, her tail wrapped tightly around her small waist. She crawled through the grass, naturally uneasy in strange new surroundings. On the edge of the small prairie, Ona spotted a bizarre, four legged beast. It had a long snout with a big, black nose. It had wide, hooked ears and big, heavy paws to match. A thick mane fell in front of cunning black eyes, a tail of long, thick strands flowing behind it. She crept forward, when suddenly the creature's huge ears caught the sound, causing the large canine to turn and flee. 

Ona shrugged and moved on, nearing the safety of the pole-like trees. Abruptly, there was a loud cheering sound ensuing from the clearing behind her. The small girl spun around, a herd of red and green hair moving towards her from across the meadow. The creatures, she now realized, were tall and thin, flaunting large mohawks of alternating red and green hair. They had huge, jutting jaws and steep, flat foreheads, merely features of a single individual's large, powerful head and neck. 

The new arrivals charged across the small prairie until they came to a halt before Ona's crater. Their bodies were sleek but muscular, sporting clawed, reptilian hands and canine-like legs. Their scaly paws were large and powerful, while immense yet strong, dinosaur-like tails swished without effort behind them. Ona ducked low in the grass as the strange aliens examined her pod, and a few slid down into the crater to get a closer look. The young Saiyan crawled through the high reeds, listening closely as the creatures spoke in low, strange voices to one another.

Three of the aliens positioned themselves like sentries around her crater, while the rest of them gathered into a herd once more. The gathering began to walk across the prairie, aimed towards the trees just a few degrees away from Ona's hiding spot. She looked in the direction they were headed and spotted a long, thick snout resting behind one of the pole-like trunks. The creature ambled past the tree, digging into the ground with its nose nonchalantly. The small herd, which perhaps consisted of ten members, crouched in the grass as the canine-like animal wandered about, when suddenly she noticed the two front aliens brandishing wide knives.

They were going to slaughter this defenseless creature?

Ona had learned well from her mother. There was the traditional Saiyan rule: kill or be killed. But then, there was the kill only for food, kill only in self-defense, and always try to protect the defenseless. The little girl realized this, for her people, the Letas, had been vulnerable, but were such a kind people... She had always felt bad that her dad was such a heartless murderer, even if her mother had tried to tame him.

The herd of aliens advanced, holding their knives out like silver screwdrivers. The blades were flashy and beaded, dressed in a fine leather on the curvaceous hilts. Ona couldn't let this happen; the creature had no real flesh on its bones to speak of, not like a Horned Giggler. They were fat, muscular beasts who were so enormous, a single infant could feed a village for a week. What was the point? She had to stop them.

Suddenly, one of the creatures jumped up, dashing at the vulnerable, unsuspecting canine. Ona shrieked, pushing with all her speed to leap in front of the poor animal, and in the attacker's way. The alien leaped back in the nick of time, and the big-eared beast watched in shock. First one of the green-haired two-leggeds had attacked it, then another small two-legged had jumped in the way. Just a little too much for its primal brain to comprehend.

"Sanzahen tabkah nutiae santo?" One of the creatures still crouching in the thick meadow grass asked. Ona blinked, attempting to understand the strange language without avail. The attacker nodded and tucked its knife back into the sheath. 

"Tandaru sunito kanta, tabkah serate banshu?" It inquired, obviously expecting her to grasp the new concept. 

"I don't understand!" She cried, her five-year-old brain on the verge of overload. The mohawked creature shook its arms, taking a step away as if backing off. It bowed, as if acknowledging her and motioned to the big-eared beast standing behind her. Ona felt relatively assured that the creature now had no intent of harming the animal, so she stepped aside. 

Amazingly, it walked towards the alien, which hastily snatched a rope from a pouch around its waist. The usually flighty animal stood perfectly calm as the previous threat wrapped the rope around its neck. The rest of the herd, which had been crouching patiently in the grass until now, stood up and approached the small cluster. Ona backed away as they huddled around the beast, one of the alien's jutting heads rising above the others as it sat upon the animal's back. 

One of them turned around and watched her, then signaled with a reptilian hand. The group moved across the meadow, Ona in tow. She was following a group of aliens on a strange planet just after arriving in a space pod. This was going to be interesting.

~*~

"Man, Terii, you _suck_ today!" Ona cried, dodging a poorly thrown ball of energy. Her yellow-haired opponent snorted, dropping back to the ground. He sat on his tail, while Ona crouched against the far wall of the training room. The two ten-year-olds glared at each other, until Terii stood up, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Fine, you win," he conceded, sighing. Ona leaped up, jumping into her victory dance. 

That evening, the Saiyan girl sat on top of her cave, watching the stars. The people she had come to live with, the Gaijins, resided in small, artificial grottos along a steep mountainside. Below lay the deep, lodgepole forest, where her crater could still be seen. It was now covered in grass and weeds, but tonight she felt a strange pull to it..

Ona climbed off the cave's overhang, jumping into the air and flying slowly down the cliffs. The Gaijins were not martial arts masters or superb energy harnessers, but they could pack a punch and her Saiyan instincts had taught her a few things. 

At the mountain's base stood a tall, dome-shaped building. It was made of simple wood beams, allowing all kinds of air and sunlight inside. Ona came to a halt at the wide entrance, immediately greeted by a big, cold nose. She climbed on the San's back, clutching the canine-like animal's long, black mane. 

Where are we going today, young master? Tanjua asked, her tail swishing back and forth in the easy breeze. It was the full of night, but this was not a hindrance due to the light two small moons and one large one shed upon the planet.

"The pod, where I first saw you. I just want to see it again, I suppose," Ona replied, testing the theory. Tanjua nodded and continued to walk along on her soft, silent paws. 

The crater was hardly noticeable among the tall reeds and bushes that had taken over the meadow. But the young Saiyan's well-trained eyes found it with ease, and she got right to sliding down the bowl-shaped crevasse. Her pod was covered in vines and shrubs, which were removed without resistance. The hatch groaned as it opened, revealing the intact interior.

Thinking back to it, this was quite a fascinating piece of machinery. Who knew what kind of mysteries it held! Ona grinned at the thought, climbing inside as she remembered her mother's old tech lessons. Being a computer geek and all, she had taught her daughter many useful tidbits, and now they were being put to use as Ona sat in the Saiyan seat. She attempted to bring the machine to life, tapping away at the buttons and periodically checking the status. The computer sputtered a little until the display suddenly blared a bright green, familiar numbers scrolling across the luminescent screen. The ten-year-old grinned, locating the enhanced computer's most recent files.

Every night, after her adopted parents had gone to bed, Ona would sneak out upon her San's back and fiddle around with the small spaceship. She accessed the many languages her mother had programmed into it, as well as a small chamber containing her papa's scouter and a few electronic Saiyan histories. The forest-haired girl also discovered her mother's side-passion; writing. There were strange, imaginative novels, which were unedited but still entertaining. The only problem was, there was a large file that she just could not gain access to. This would frustrate her to the point of explosion until Tanjua stuck her goofy head into the ship and licked his mistress' face. 

~*~

Ona stepped back, wiping her hands together and examining her work. Something was calling her away, away from the Gaijins, and off into the universe. It had been against her for the past five years, causing her to work feverishly. She had a deep desire to leave Gaija, no matter how much she loved it there. Strangely enough, Terii had found the whole idea silly, but Tanjua insisted on accompanying Ona wherever she decided to go. To compensate, Ona had taken apart her pod and studied the components until she was ready to build her own spacecraft, suited to carry the small Saiyan and her large mount comfortably. She combined the pieces of her own spaceship with various metals and oils that some of the Gaijins mined, and had just installed the final engine. 

Ona had been dutifully studying the various languages programmed into it, and was now fluent in over twenty of them. She was amazed at the vast knowledge her mother commanded, a powerful asset indeed. 

As the Saiyan was transferring files from her old ship to her new one, her adopted mother, Sounhi, approached her. The grown, female Gaijin had a pinkish mohawk and a kind, soothing personality. This obviously hadn't rubbed off on her rude, rambunctious son, Terii. 

"You're leaving us, aren't you, Ona?" Sounhi asked in her quiet, motherly way. Ona was about to argue when Sounhi's deep, dark eyes could only know the truth.

"Yes. Something's calling me away from here... I don't know why, how, or where to, but I have to at least try to find out," Ona replied, resting a hand on her well-built space machine. Sounhi nodded and patted her adopted daughter's shoulder, smiling.

"I remember when you first came to us... You defended Tanjua, and now he is committed to you forever. You learned our language, became one of us.. now you are leaving. I shall miss you, daughter," the older Gaijin said, smiling. Ona dipped her head in agreement.   


"You too, Sounhi. Where is father?" She inquired. "Terii too. I'm thinking of leaving tomorrow night, but before then, I have to pack and store food." Sounhi grinned and spun around, putting a claw in her mouth and whistling. A tall, green-haired Gaijin and his son, Terii, appeared. They looked around curiously until they spotted Sounhi, where the call had originated. 

"Yes?" They asked in eager unison.

"Yuso? Terii? I'm calling you all here to say... I won't be seeing you. I'm leaving tomorrow night, and I will spend the remainder of my time gathering my things for my trip," Ona told them, dropping her head in guilt. Yuso raised an eyebrow, approaching her first.

"Ona, do whatever you please. You have grown up since I first took you under my wing as a lost, little girl, and now it is time for you to return.. home." Yuso paused, having been one of the few Gaijins to hear Ona's Saiyan tales of Vegeta-sei and its people. 

"I feel I am being called away... I am prepared for a long journey, but I will be joined by Tanjua," the forest-haired girl said, walking over to Terii. He had purposely kept his eyes off her, for he knew he would be losing his adopted sister and friend. "Bye, Terii. Take good care of Sounhi and Yuso for me," Ona told him, her voice calm and tinted with sadness at leaving her people. The yellow-haired Gaijin raised his eyes, smiling.

"I'll help you pack, sister." 

~*~

Tanjua adjusted easily to his quarters, which was mainly a large pillow accompanied by wide, flat bowl. Ona had built her adjacent accommodations much like the Saiyan pod, which was comfortable and easy to maneuver. She had a small, orb-shaped object just to her left, which consisted of many small marbles strung on circular, metal wires all combined into a odd-shaped sphere. It was to entertain her ever-energetic tail, an appendage which her Gaijin friends and family had always found amusing. 

The ship was ready.

It had very large energy tanks, which were filled with artificially-powered oils. The pod would be able to fly for months at a time, and she had reserves in case she needed them. 

Ona climbed into the pod one last time, closing the hatch as she waved to all the crowded Gaijins. They watched in awe as the machine sputtered to life, the engines flickering on as it ascended into the air. She smiled, proud of her fine, operating work. 

"Ready, Tanjua?" She asked, patting the head of her big, furry San.

As ready as I'll ever be, little mistress, he responded in amusement. The large pod jolted, hurtling through Gaija's thick atmosphere and into the vast, black depths of space. The two friends drifted off, heading to where, no one knew.

~*~

Ona awoke, her eyes heavy and drawn. She rubbed them free of sleepy-seeds, and quickly set about to peering outside the hatch. They had landed on a planet, but it was not a familiar one. The information left by her mother covered a few places and short descriptions, but this fit none of them. The teenage Saiyan tapped lightly into the pod's keypad, knowing her San was still fast asleep just a few feet away. The air was oxygen and nitrogen, which meant it was probably breathable. Ona sat up, opening the hatch.

Her feet touched solid ground. It wasn't rock hard, but instead seemed to be a vast landscape of raw desert. Off in the distance she could see a few small hills, but that was all. Ona climbed to the top of the crater, where she could get a better look across the flat expanse. The Gaijins were not what you would call a 'modest' people, for they had nothing to cover. Ona shivered in her light robe, and her pants were not in the best of shape. This place was not where she was intended to be, and she turned to make her way back to the ship.

Tanjua sat outside the hatch, cleaning his paws with a long, pink tongue. He looked up as his mistress approached and gave her a unique, San-like smile.

Can we eat? 

The two devoured a small portion of the food Ona had stored on the ship, and the Saiyan was getting it ready to depart. Tanjua stepped into his side of the pod, walking in circles until he settled into the massive pillow. Ona leaned back, crossing her arms and closing her eyes as the craft departed, heading for another unknown place. She had set the coordinates farther into the distant regions of space, where only one of her mother's records indicated. They were going to the place she was born.

~*~

Ona yawned, opening one deep emerald eye. They were no longer in motion, but she could hear faint voices coming from outside her pod. Tanjua was still fast asleep, of course, so Ona took it upon herself to test the air and step out onto the dirt of her crater, which by now, she was accustomed to. The ship seemed to have landed on a thin strip of black tar, which was hard and painted with white and yellow lines. There were small, green patches of grass, and behind them sat wooden boxes with square windows and all looked identical, except for minor color differences.

There were multiple screams as Ona stepped above the crater, standing with one eyebrow cocked on the asphalt. She looked around, seeing several humanoid creatures without tails ducking behind wheeled, metal objects. The sky here was blue, and dotted with puffy white clouds. Bright, yellow sunlight streamed from behind the marshmallow-like vapor, making Ona smile from the warmth. The strange aliens wore long, thick clothing, which covered most of their bodies. 

__

Man, they must be hot_!_ She examined as the creatures ran, slow and clumsy. 

"Tanjua! Come on!" The Saiyan called, her tail wrapping around her waist. Although these strange beings appeared weak, Ona had learned not to prejudge. Surprises were everywhere.

The yawning San came bounding from the pod with animalistic ease, Ona hopping onto its back. They walked quietly down the asphalt length, and the Saiyan felt her strange calling disappear. This is where she needed to be. Now, all she had to figure out was why...

~*~

__

"Breaking news!" The newscaster announced. _"A strange spaceship has landed in a small neighborhood of the Western Capital!"_ There were pictures of helicopters swarming around the street, blocking all view of the anomaly itself. The world had reason to be suspicious of aliens and spaceships.

"What is all that _racket?!_" Came a demanding, scratchy voice. The blue-haired woman shushed him, intently watching the screen. Her bubbly, blonde mother followed suit over her shoulder, while her warrior boyfriend raised an eyebrow. "DON'T SHUSH ME!" The deep voice hollered, stepping into the living room. 

He wore a pink, button down shirt and tight, yellow pants. Looking altogether moronic, the addition of tall, black, gravity-defying hair made the ensemble just plain ridiculous. 

"Vegeta, shutup, will you?! A spaceship just landed, and it looks almost like yours... but bigger!" The woman with blue, broccoli-like hair exclaimed, pointing to the television. Vegeta snorted and walked over, leaning on the couch. The second he got a glimpse of the ship, he leaped back five feet and blinked wide eyes. 

__

"An alien seems to have come out of the ship. Eyewitnesses say it was a teenage girl, who then mounted a giant dog and has just walked off camera. The two are moving quickly, and we now follow them exclusively in our channel 809 news helicopter," the news anchor informed them, the screen switching to a view of the street. Sure enough, a short, blackish-green haired girl sat on the back of a tall, dog-like animal. It had wide ears and a long, black mane and tail. The two looked completely nonchalant, as if they had no idea they were the center of mass attention.

Vegeta came closer, examining the television screen. He inhaled deeply and took a step back, watching the four faces that were now on him. 

"She has a large energy and a tail," he remarked. 

~*~

Ona growled, becoming annoyed by the large, flying whirlwinds that hovered over her. They had metallic skins and foolish, spinning wings. 

What are we doing here? Why? Tanjua asked as he padded along, darting past the numerous grass patches and large, wooden boxes. 

"I don't know. I think whatever drew me here is going to show up soon, though," Ona replied, glancing around. The San nodded, his ears flapping back and forth to compensate for the wind. "I don't think this is where we need to be. Go due east, and get these stupid giant flies off our backs," the Saiyan commanded, holding onto her mount's long mane. Tanjua nodded and ran off, leaving merely a cloud of dust for the poor television cameras to follow.

~*~

"Did you SEE that?!" The blue-haired woman gasped, pointing at the screen. Her mother nodded, gazing with wide eyes. Bulma looked around, realizing Vegeta wasn't hovering behind the couch like a bright pink wasp.

"Where'd he go?!" She demanded, knowing full well a loose Vegeta would be bad for the city's overall health. Her father, Mr. Briefs, shrugged.

"He and Yamcha disappeared while you were blabbering," he replied nonchalantly. Bulma growled, jumping to her feet and swinging a nearby coat over her shoulders. "They sensed something, and are going after it."

~*~

Ona shuddered. She knew when large energies were around, she could feel it in her bones... and now, there was a huge evil one coming towards this poor planet. The Saiyan figured out where it was most likely to be, and headed there without a second thought. Her San could run faster than she could fly, so she took time to think as they dashed across a white-capped ocean.

Gohan flew swiftly after he met up with Krillin. The two small fighters were headed towards the strange power, and were already detecting the source: Frieza. But there was another one with him, similar but larger. Both were extremely dangerous.

They soon joined forces with Tien and Choutzu, and the four landed in a wide expanse of cliffs and boulders. Vegeta and Yamcha were already waiting, the former crouched on a big rock, wearing a pink shirt with "Bad Man" printed in black letters on the back. Yamcha ran over to them, waving. 

"What's going on? That's Frieza coming, isn't it?" Came the questions, and no one could give an answer.

"Did any of you see the TV broadcast?" Krillin asked, having watched it himself at Kame house with Master Roshi and Oolong. Yamcha nodded, while Gohan, Tien, and Choutzu remained in the dark.

"There was some girl and a big dog thing! They landed in a small neighborhood, then took off so fast even the helicopters lost them!" Yamcha declared. The five warriors began to talk rapidly, exchanging awed comments.

"It was a Saiyan, you imbecile," Vegeta growled suddenly. The congregation turned, staring at him.

"And she's headed this way," another voice added. They turned, seeing the flowing white cape of Piccolo standing on an overhanging cliff.

"Did I miss anything?!" A third, bubbly vocalist inquired, springing behind Yamcha. 

"Bulma! What are you doing here?!" The scarred warrior cried. Bulma raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if it's Frieza, I thought I might as well see him before he blows up the planet!" She exclaimed in reply, bouncing up and down. Vegeta rolled his eyes and stared out over the vast desert expanse.

"I heard you say a Saiyan," Gohan interrupted, walking over to his Namekian friend. Piccolo glanced down and nodded.

"A Saiyan. Amazingly, she hasn't tried to blow up anyone or anything, and isn't flying... She's riding," the green alien responded, obviously confused and surprised.

"Indeed. She's quite powerful, too," Vegeta snorted, resting his chin on his palm. This gained the attention of the other Z fighters, who had previously been fussing over Bulma and her foolish appearance. 

~*~

"Stop here," Ona commanded. Her San came to a swift halt, glancing around. "This is where the power's coming from."

I can feel it, too. But over there... A bunch more. Not nearly as big, but there nevertheless. They don't seem evil, though... Tanjua trailed off, motioning his nose towards a nearby cliff. 

"I know." Ona glanced up, seeing a white and green figure standing beside a very short, blue one with long, black hair. She raised an eyebrow. They must have seen her by now.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a beam of blue energy struck the ground beside her. Tanjua leaped sideways, Ona just barely hanging on. 

"What the.." She glanced up, seeing a tall, pink man with tall, black hair, his hand aimed at her. Should she fire back or show that she was peaceful? Ha! 

Ona raised her hand, sending back a red beam with twice the velocity and size. Her opposition dodged easily, but the white and green figure grabbed him by the arm. The pink alien turned and pulled away, but the small orange figure had already disappeared. 

Tanjua felt the command before it was issued, and ran in less than a second around the cliff and up the other side. 

Bulma shrieked, causing Yamcha to spin around. Standing in front of a large, dog-like creature stood the forest-haired girl, holding a blubbering Bulma by an arm around her throat. Ona glared at the now-staring assortment of fighters, which included a small, pasty-faced doll, a three-eyed man, a boy in an orange gi with long, black hair, a short, bald monk, a pink shirted, spike-haired warrior, a green alien with a flowing white cape, and finally a stout, scar-faced man who was ready to blow her away as soon as she let go of the bubbly blue-haired woman. 

~*~

"Sond! Kadua soberhi taneda kada!" The obviously alien girl cried, tightening her grip on Bulma. 

"Let go of her!" Yamcha yelled back, prepared to form an energy beam. The Saiyan blinked, then grinned.

"I know this language," she said, as if suddenly forgetting her position. She let go of Bulma and Vegeta snapped his fingers in frustration.

"I was hoping you would carry out your threat," he snorted. Yamcha grabbed the flustered Bulma, pulling her aside and still glaring evilly at the newcomer. "Who are you?" Ona glared at the approaching man, who wore an atrocious pink shirt and had gravity-defying black hair.

"My name is none of your business, but I'm a..." she paused. "I'm a Gaijin." Vegeta took a step back, pointing to her tail. Gohan jumped forward, squealing.

"You're a SAIYAN, aren't you?!" He cried, eyeing her.

"What?! How did you know?!" She replied, horrified. 

"Because the little brat's half Saiyan. I'm a full Saiyan, thank you very much." Vegeta growled, looking her up and down. 

"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!" Came a sudden scream, as Bulma charged over. Ona leaped back in a defensive position.

Indeed, Ona was a sight. She wore a light, gray robe, which hung over her breasts barely enough to conceal her nipples. The rest of her was completely bare, while a small rope hung between the two halves of the material. She wore low, ripped pants, which were pretty much just shorts by now. Clothing was usually not much of an issue on Gaija. 

"What do you mean..?" Ona asked quizzically, examining her outfit.

"Ignore her. Who are you really?" The green alien said, stepping forward at long last. Ona shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

"You look familiar," Gohan commented, gazing at her face. The Saiyan took a step back, surprised by his sudden move. 

"Yes, you do," Vegeta added, his voice losing its snarl-like effect momentarily. 

The strange confrontation was harshly interrupted. The group turned, hearing the sound of sand and dirt being kicked up by a loud engine. The air was deafening as the ship landed, settling in a cloud of dust. 

"HE'S HERE!" Krillin yelled, and the group hid beneath a cliff, excluding Ona and Vegeta. They raised their eyebrows harmoniously, obviously not put off by the enormously evil power that had just landed a few hundred yards away. 

They remained that way for what seemed like hours, but was probably only twenty minutes. Meanwhile, Ona lightly explained about her planet Gaija and her friend, Tanjua. She told them her name, but that was about it, besides their persuasive prodding. A few questions brought her to why she came to Earth; Ona described how she had felt drawn here, and had even built her own pod to suit her purposes. Bulma gazed on in wonder... Another female technology genius. Perhaps not _all _Saiyans were that bad. 

Finally, the smoke had relatively cleared and Vegeta got up, jumping to the top of the cliff.

"Vegeta! Where are you going?!" Krillin demanded. The Saiyan glared back.

"I'm going to see what's taking that asshole Frieza so long," he snarled. 

"Frieza?" Ona asked. The name was strangely familiar... Oh well, as long as there was a fight! 

"Yeah, Frieza! The biggest most dangerous tyrant in the universe! He should be dead, though.. Don't you know him?!" Tien broke in, speaking for the first time.

"The name's familiar. Either way, I'm coming. There's no one worth a challenge on Gaija," Ona snorted, coming up beside Vegeta. He shuffled uncomfortably... She was so young, and so pretty. A pure Saiyan, despite her greenish miscolorings. A Saiyan.. How did she survive? A female, nevertheless? Perhaps there was hope after all. She was pure, and had the true instincts of a Saiyan, unlike that fool Kakarot. All thoughts of salvage were lost on him.

"See if you can keep up," Vegeta replied, grinning evilly. Ona nodded and the two took off, leaving white and blue trails of energy. 

"WAIT UP!" The others shouted.

~*~

The man hovered, staring at the remains of King Cold. The two approaching Saiyans stopped mid-flight, staring at the golden-haired, green eyed teen, who was now putting away his long sword. Vegeta stared, his jaw hanging open.

"Who's that?" Ona inquired, raising an eyebrow. "His hair is standing straight up!" 

"You're observant," Vegeta remarked snidely, still not able to take his eyes off the boy. Yamcha, who was carrying Bulma, Tien, Gohan, Krillin, Chaotzu, and Piccolo finally arrived, all of them watching the stranger. He turned around and smiled, his hair suddenly losing its golden hue and falling in long, purple strands around his face. He was about to speak when his eyes fell upon Ona, who was watching him with wide eyes at his sudden change in appearance.

"Who are you?!" The man backed up, his purple vest sliding back on his shoulders from the weight of the sword. Ona raised an eyebrow.

"We were just about to ask the same question," Krillin said, stepping forward. _Too many new people for one day,_ he thought. The purple-haired newcomer scratched his head.

"I.. uh.. can't tell you that. All I can say is.." He paused, considering. "Goku's coming, and I know where. I can show you." This was followed by numerous gasps, leaving Ona in the dark.

"Goku?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Kakarot! He's coming back! How do you know this, boy?!" Vegeta demanded, glaring at the poor boy. 

"Uh... I just do. Follow me," he said, taking off into the air suddenly. 

"Kakarot? That sounds familiar.. A Saiyan name," Ona remarked. Tanjua, who had been waiting just a short distance away stepped up to her, nuzzling her back with its snout. "I'm going to follow him, for so far I've trusted you perfect strangers." She jumped with ease onto the San's back and took off in a cloud of dust after the white trail. Vegeta, without a second thought, took off after her, soon followed by the hesitant Z warriors.

~Makú ga shimáru

The curtain closes. ~

~*~

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Glossary: Gaijin - Foreigner

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Dedications: Vegeta's Gyal - Thank you so much for everything. All your reviews, your awesome stories, and your inspiration. Here's that chapter ^_^

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Schedule: Next chapter due Monday, April 29. To be notified of updates, email me with your request at maxchick@mad.scientist.com.

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Something to Check Out: Visit my website, the ErieDragon, at http://www.freewebz.com/eriedragon. Posted there are my stories, my art, my friends' stories, poems, shrines, and everything else you could possibly want to know about DragonBall Z or my life in general. 

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And of course, read The Cousin's prequel, Even the Ruthless Fall in Love!

~Majin Niña~


	3. A Boy Named Kakarot

**__**

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Dragon Ball Z or any of it's characters. I do not make any profit from this fiction, while it and all of its original characters and plots are ãErieDragon 2002.

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Author's Note: I will most likely be late with this week's chapter, I didn't actually get started until Wednesday night. Our school has Friday off, so hopefully I'll do most of it then. Also, this is mostly a "talking" chapter, basically things from the show re-written A/U style. Hopefully things will become more interesting as I integrate my own version of the B/V romance.

Chapter 2

A Boy Named Kakarot

__

Who was that girl? No one had mentioned her, ever_. She's not in any of the pictures..._ The purple-vested man sighed, glancing at his watched. It bleeped a few times, indicating the landing site. _Scary thing was, she was Saiyan, and... _He peered around, as if checking for someone who might be able to read his thoughts. _Gorgeous. _

Ona tugged on Tanjua's mane, the two coming to a halt. The purple-haired boy descended from the air, his sword hilt glimmering in the midday heat. The intimidating image caused her to tightly wrap her tail around her waist, but she proceeded to hop off the San's back and approach him. He turned to look at her...

__

His face! It was eerily familiar. Ona was about to open her mouth and speak when Vegeta landed, followed by the rest of the crew. The spike-haired Saiyan worried her; he'd had his eyes on her since she first showed up. 

"How do you know Goku's going to be here?" Krillin inquired, his toe nervously digging into the ground as Yamcha set down Bulma.

"Um... I just do," the man replied, taking something out of his pocket. It was about an inch long and silver, wrapped in a white paper label. 

"It's a bomb!" The conclusive, jumpy Yamcha cried as the purple-haired boy threw down the object, sending up a cloud of smoke. It soon revealed a small, pearly colored box, which was adorned with a small handle.

"It's not a bomb, you idiot," Bulma scolded, slapping her boyfriend upside the head. Vegeta raised an eyebrow, and Ona snorted. Turning back to the object, she watched in wonder as the man opened it and pulled out a small, tin cylinder.

"It's a refrigerator. Anyone want a drink?" He asked, showing his offerings to the small crowd. Gohan immediately rushed forward, apparently famished, and was followed by Bulma. The man gave them each a soda, while Ona curiously inspected the small, cold-radiating machine's workings. 

"So? Where's Goku?" Chaotzu asked, sitting beside the three-eyed Tien. The other fighters nodded in agreement to the question. The longhaired man turned his attention back to them, sipping a coke. He looked down at his watch, which bleeped in reply to one of its many buttons being pushed.

"Two hours," he replied, taking another swig. Bulma's eyes widened, as did Ona's.

"That's going to tell you when Goku's going to be here?!" The blue-haired woman cried in awe. 

"Who's Goku?" Ona inquired weakly. Everyone turned to stare at her.

"My dad!" Gohan announced, sticking out his chest proudly. The newcomer looked up as Vegeta snorted.

"Kakarot's coming back. He's a Saiyan too, ya know," the short, stocky man told her, an evil glare plastered onto his face. Ona shook her head in disbelief. All of these Saiyans were too much for her, she had always been told as a child that she and her mother were the only ones left. The teenage girl sighed, leaning against a rock. Her skimpy robe clung barely to her right breast, and every male eye flashed to it. This tipped Bulma over the edge.

Ona looked up, that blue-haired woman approaching her. The darker girl stepped back, but a flurry of hands pulled up her robe tight around her. 

"OUCH! What are you doing?! DON'T TOUCH ME!" Ona shrieked, leaping back and crouching on a rock. Bulma put her hands on her hips and glared, when their little episode was interrupted by a fit of raspy, evil laughter.

"What are you laughing at, Vegeta?!" Yamcha demanded, still unable to take his eyes off Ona's still revealing chest. 

"Been a while since I've met another _real _Saiyan," Vegeta emphasized with disgust. Ona raised an eyebrow.

"What about this Kakarot person?" She inquired, slowly getting off her rock. The purple-vested boy watched in amusement, still sucking on his soda.

"He was one of those low-classes, sent off as a child to destroy this planet. He failed..." 

"Because he was dropped on his head as a baby," Krillin put in. Vegeta snarled, but kept his calm so he could keep his thoughts focused on the explanation at hand.

"And became a softie. His brat there is a half breed. Pathetic, really," the spike-haired Saiyan retorted, making a dismissive sweeping motion with his hand. Ona nodded in agreement, glancing sideways at the others, who watched curiously. 

"If you know so much, who are you?" She asked Vegeta, raising an eyebrow and perching against a rocky boulder. The other Z fighters began to talk among themselves, and the purple-vested man popped another coke while following the conversation.

"If you must know, I'm the Prince. Prince Vegeta."

Ona's eyes widened a great deal, and the surprised drop of her shoulders nearly caused her robe to slide off. Her mother had given her a few good history lessons about Vegeta-sei, telling her about kings, the monarchy, pods, the Saiyan history, and just about anything else the inquisitive little girl had wanted to know. She had not lived on the planet itself, so she didn't feel an urge to bow. But, the sheer thought that one of her planet's only survivors, the Prince of all Saiyans, was before her now, sent a shiver up her spine.

"Prince Vegeta... What are you doing here? On this kami-forsaken planet, with these weaklings..." Ona took a sidelong glance at the man acting as spectator. He was no pushover. 

"The only place I had left to go after Frieza was supposedly defeated," the prince replied casually, snuffing his pink shirt in disgust. Ona had found this quite amusing at first, but now the prospect lost all humor.

"If I may interrupt, who are you?" The purple-haired man said at last, setting down his soda can. Ona glanced up.

"Well.. My name's Ona," she replied blankly. Bulma was watching the conversation, when she must have seen something intriguing.

"That's a Capsule Corp. jacket!" She cried, rushing across and pointing at the "CC" symbol on the shirt's arm. The man raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Yeah... I'm, um.. a big fan," he stuttered. The blue-haired woman stepped back and grinned. 

"Then how do you know Goku? And that we were going to be here?" She pried deeper.

"Um, I can't really tell you that," the stranger confided. Ona let out a chuckle, and the gazes were shifted onto her. The Saiyan shrugged, her tail relatively passive here. 

"You're Saiyan.. But where's your tail?" She asked Vegeta, leaning back on the rock and causing the robe to hang so loosely that it took everything they had for the males to shift their stares. Vegeta snorted, and Krillin parted from the group he had been speaking in earlier. Ona raised an eyebrow and got off her rock, bending down as the little bald monk whispered in her ear. Suddenly, she burst out laughing.

"HEY! Baldie! What did you tell her?!" Vegeta cried angrily, getting to his feet and clenching his fists. 

"Ah, nothing to get your hair in a knot about," Krillin said ironically. Ona chuckled, sitting back down.

"Relax, y'all are so uptight!" Bulma laughed and sat down next to Yamcha, who turned away from talking to Tien long enough to wrap one arm around his blue-haired girlfriend. Ona noticed the brief look of disgust Vegeta gave before turning his head. Apparently, the taller, longer-haired stranger noticed too and winked at her.

Those two hours passed slowly. A few small fights broke out, but nothing serious. The Z fighters gradually introduced themselves to Ona, but she remained in a darkness similar to that of Vegeta's reclusive composition. They talked quietly for a brief time, of what, no one knew. 

"He should be here in a few minutes," the boy announced, getting to his feet. The others glanced at each other, doubt apparent in their expressions. 

The group stood, waiting and watching the sky for what seemed like another eternity. Just when even Ona was losing her patience, she felt the strange sound before she heard it. Another talent she had acquired from the nature-revering Gaijins. 

The ship charged towards the Earth at full throttle. Dust flew into the air, but was soon cleared by Piccolo's calm, insistent fanning. The fighters crowded around the crater, and Tanjua nervously nuzzled his mistress' arm. She replied with a calming pat on the head. Whoever this was, was obviously a good fighter and worthy of a challenge, from the way the others had described him.

"D-d-d-daddy!" Was the first cry. The pod looked identical to Ona's, causing her a slight shock as it opened. The smoke and dust had cleared significantly, and the sun's bearing rays reflected valiantly off the ship's white metallic surface. 

"Gohan?" Ona took a step back. The little boy tackled his strangely dressed father as he examined the crowd. The frazzle-haired man's eyes stopped on her, and their shock was equal.

"P-p-pa.." she cut herself off and stared, the face so blindingly familiar that her heart was in her throat. The hair was much different, yes, and the expression too... This was a goofy, unfocused, non-Saiyan look, but the resemblance made her turn on her heels and run, followed quickly by her worried San. Goku raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off as the joy of seeing his friends and son again came over him. 

Soon enough, the two-strangers-in-one-day syndrome hit him as the lavender-haired man cleared his throat and approached Goku. 

"Are you Goku?" He asked. The black-haired man tilted his head, as if trying to recognize the stranger. 

"Yes I am," he replied assuredly. The purple-vested man smiled. "Who are you?" Bulma interrupted.

"This stranger seems to know you! We thought he might be one of your fans... He knew you were going to be here and everything!" She told Goku hurriedly, obviously amazed.

"What about Frieza?" Goku replied, eyeing the newcomer with interest.

"He.. He turned into a Super Saiyan, and picked him apart," Piccolo grunted, obviously peeved at the simplicity involved. Goku's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"A Super Saiyan? Just like that? Wow, amazing, and at his age, too!" The oddly-dressed warrior grinned, giving the newcomer a lopsided expression. Ona, meanwhile, watched the exchange with disgruntled interest. Who was this man? Why the HECK did he look so much like Papa? Suddenly, Vegeta snarled.

"Aren't you forgetting something?! You, me, and your hybrid son are the only Saiyans left alive, besides that strange creature that showed up just before you did but still can't prove her heritage any more than this "Super Saiyan" can!!" Vegeta erupted, causing everyone except Goku to take a step back. The purple-haired man continued to remain silent.

"Well, if he _says_ he's a Saiyan, he must be a Saiyan." Bulma rolled her eyes, when the purple-vested man stepped forward.

"May I talk to you privately?" Goku looked at his friends and back at the boy, raising an eyebrow. Suddenly, as if he had just recognized him, he nodded.

"Sure." The group looked on in amazement as the two flew a short distance away, within eyesight. 

Ona climbed over the ridge, peering over the cliff at the two men. The one who had just arrived looked exactly like her father, just different in disposition and hairstyle. The second man, on the other hand, seemed decently battle-hardened and bore an uncanny resemblance to the Prince. She listened in on their conversation, floating dangerously close but just out of sight. Ona also knew how to mask her energy, and she landed quietly within earshot.

"Who are you?" Was the first question her father's lookalike asked. 

"That I cannot tell you. But, I do know that you are a Super Saiyan. When I saw you hadn't arrived yet to destroy Frieza, I had to step in," the purple-haired man replied calmly.

"Yes... I didn't finish off Frieza, I thought he might change. His ship was just too fast. You came here in time to destroy him.. I could have been here if I really wanted to." Goku trailed off. The boy raised an eyebrow. "I learned a technique called Instant Transmission! I just go like this..." The black haired warrior put his middle and index finger against his forehead. "And I can transport anywhere." The boy's eyes widened. "The people on Yardjrek taught it to me. You can certainly get places quickly going 180,000 miles per second!" 

"Oh man, if I'd known that you could do that... I wouldn't have run the risk of meeting the others." The purple vested man lowered his head, and Goku raised an eyebrow.

"Risk? What risk?" The boy looked up, then changed the subject.

"I was hoping you would, or could, power up for me," the boy requested politely. Goku nodded.

"At first it was harder, but now it comes naturally," he said, and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he was enveloped by a yellow energy flame, much to the shock of the onlooking Z crew. 

"Amazing, truly. Now, I shall show you my power," the boy said, focusing his energy as well. A similar event occurred, baffling Ona completely. What was happening? Was this boy a Saiyan too? She was not entirely familiar with the Legendary Saiyan myth, regarding it purely as it was: a myth, a fable. 

Goku watched in slightly lessened shock as the previously purple-haired boy increased largely in energy. He was very powerful to say the least.

[A/N: I know this is different than the version in the TV show, but I felt it might have been changed by the appearance of Ona. Plus, I'm a little too lazy to copy it down word for word... ^_~]

The next few minutes blurred as the vested man challenged Goku, and in response the formerly black haired man accepted without fear. The former charged, but was countered merely by Goku's finger. The second time around, he attacked with his sword; the taller man didn't react, even when the boy stopped his sword an inch from his opponent's vulnerable body.

"Why didn't you dodge?!" The first, younger fighter demanded. Goku shrugged.

"I knew you wouldn't do it." The purple-vested boy raised his eyebrows, then lowered his sword once again.

"Well this time, I won't stop," he said menacingly. Goku shrugged.

"As you wish." The boy charged, swinging the sword, when Goku's finger shot up and caught the scything metal inches from his body. The wielder stepped back in shock. The boy's hair dropped, becoming purple once more, and Goku's followed suit.

"Wow. You are more amazing than my mother ever could describe. Now I know I can trust you," the vested man commented, obviously humbled. 

"Trust me? Who's your mother? How are you a Saiyan? I thought me and Vegeta were the only ones left..." Goku questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, apparently, there is another Saiyan even I didn't know about, but that's beyond the point. I am only half Saiyan... I came from the future. A grim one. My name is Trunks. My father.. My father is Vegeta," the boy said, turning his head back to the group with a strange pride. Right then, Goku facevaulted. 

"VEGETA?!" His voice dropped slightly. "Vegeta's going to be a daddy?!" The boy nodded, but put a finger to his lips.

"You cannot mention any of this. Promise?" Trunks lowered his eyebrows, and Goku took a step back.

"What just happened? That boy pointed to you and Goku fell over," Krillin commented to Vegeta. The prince merely hmphed and went back to picking at his t-shirt.

"I promise!" Goku replied.

"That's not what I came here to talk about," Trunks said in annoyance. "My future.. My future is nothing. Everyone who you see today is dead, except my mother. She built a time machine, and sent me back to try and repair the past. We were attacked by two androids, monstrous creatures who destroyed and killed mercilessly. They appeared at 10:30, nine miles north west of South City. They were horrible creatures, and destroyed everything in their path. Our world has become a war zone. We have never been able to destroy them, because we were unprepared when they showed up. They were made by some man named Dr. Gero," Trunks told him, his face dark and sad. He continued in graphic detail, describing Dr. Gero's relations with the old Red Ribbon army, and the manner in which all of the Z fighters were dead in his time.

"Dead?! What do you mean?" Goku demanded, shocked.

"In my future, everyone was killed in the first big battle besides me and Gohan. He trained me... But he was killed years ago," Trunks rasped, obviously delving into painful memories for information.

"What about me? I died fighting the androids too?" Goku asked, prodding further.

"No. You died of a heart disease in one year," Trunks told him bluntly. Goku's eyes widened. "So I brought you the cure for it from the future. Keep it close, and promise you won't let wind of this get to my parents," the lavender-haired boy insisted, pressing a small bottle into Goku's hand. The older warrior nodded in awe. eager to ask his next question. "If Vegeta's your father... Than who's your mother?" Ona was finding this all very amusing. "Do I know her?"

"Um, yes, you do," Trunks informed him, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh! Does she live in my neighborhood, or am I going to meet her?" Goku inquired with vast excitement.

"She's standing over there."

"WHAT?!?!?! BULMA?!" Goku hollered, then quieted his voice before facevaulting again. "The two most headstrong, stubborn people I know... Who woulda guessed?" Trunks shrugged.

"My mom didn't really talk about my father a lot, it was hard for me to recognize him at first. I only have photographs of everyone. I think it was just a passion thing," the boy said, sighing. Goku watched him, appalled.

"I always thought Bulma was going to marry Yamcha or something!" Trunks blushed and nodded.

Yamcha sneezed. 

"Excuse you, Yamcha!" Bulma called.

"I'm born after my mother falls in love with my father. But he never admits he loves her, of course." Goku nodded and turned to look at the two, still shocked but not entirely disoriented anymore. "But you can't tell them any of this! If they get wind of it, it might not happen!" 

"This is too much. What are you going to tell them? What did you come here _for_ exactly?" The ever-inquisitive man asked.

"To inform you of the threat, so you can be prepared, and to save you, Goku. I never met you in my time, but I am truly happy that I did now." Trunks smiled, brushing his hair out of his blue eyes. Ona sighed to herself from behind the rock, and the two fighters knew instantly that she was there but did nothing.

"Who is that?" Goku asked quietly. Trunks shook his head.

"I don't know. She's a pure Saiyan, I think, but perhaps you can get more out of her than I can," he replied. Goku nodded and glanced sideways, raising an eyebrow.

"She looks darn familiar. I just can't quite put my finger on it.." He trailed off, then turned back to face Trunks.

"That's besides the point. I need to get going now, my mother must be worried sick about me," Trunks pointed out. Goku nodded and thanked him for the medicine. 

Ona let out a breath as Trunks took off. She jumped on her San's back, heading in a similar direction. She couldn't be near her father's lookalike... It reminded her of him too much. Maybe this new stranger, who was obviously alien to his powers, might be of some help in understanding why she was here; if he hung around.

The handsome, purple-haired man was climbing into a strange looking ship when Ona approached, Tanjua peering around warily. 

"It's you!" Trunks said in surprise, cracking a small smile at the pretty young girl. She was merely fifteen years old, but had a large amount of detectable power and was very outspoken in her femininity, yet she also was not one to be messed with. Ona looked up.

"I suppose it is me," she replied dully. 

"Who are you? I thought I was a stranger, but you overheard my entire story. I hope you won't let word get out either," Trunks asked speculatively, stepping down from his time machine. Ona shrugged.

"I have no interest in your affairs. I merely want to know where I am and who all you crazy people are," she snorted, hopping easily from Tanjua's back. Trunks grinned and leaned back.

"I'm supposing you're another alien, but you aren't here to destroy the planet, are you? We have enough troubles," the older boy sighed, keeping his eyes off her perfect chest. 

"I have no desire for such things. I merely came here on an inner calling, and I want to know why. What is going on? Who is everybody?" Ona inquired, curious as ever. Trunks stood up.

"I'll come back, try to have this make sense. I'm sure you could weasel answers out of the others, but I'll come back. It will be three years before the Androids arrive, and hopefully they will all be training. This planet is in danger, but I'll come and meet you here in one month," Trunks concluded, giving his word. Ona nodded.

"I will try to deal with this strange planet until then," she replied, jumping onto her San and taking off without a second thought.

__

I'll have to find out who she is, Trunks thought to himself as he cleared the air, waving to all on the ground. _Goodbye, my young mother._

"I could swear he just waved to _you_, Bulma!" Yamcha cried in surprise as they gestured their goodbyes to the departing time machine.

"Goku! What was all that he talked to you about?" The group asked all at once.

"Oh, um, it was nothing important, really.." Goku admitted, trying his best.

"It all sounded very important to me," Piccolo snorted, and Goku's eyes widened. "I heard it all, my ears do more than frame my face."

"But you heard him!" Goku exclaimed worriedly.

"I won't say anything to endanger your friend, but we all deserve a chance to change our future!" Piccolo insisted angrily, and began the story.

"Wow... But how do we know he's just not.. cracked?" Yamcha asked, deriving an annoyed snort from Piccolo.

"Believe what you want to believe. I'm going to train," he announced. Tien and Chaoutzu nodded in agreement, followed by the rest of the crew.

~*~

Ona had wandered back to the city, but less conspicuously. She pulled her robes tight around her with her tail, and insisted that Tanjua travel separately and meet her when she said so. The Saiyan searched for nearby energy levels, perhaps the familiar ones of the strange people in the desert. This was one backwards planet.

The building was like a small dome, and read "Capsule Corp." on one side. This was where the Prince was staying, and perhaps she could get a few answers here.

Ona's San arrived in no time at his mistress' call. The two strangers had met in a small yard, looking over the fence at the building's large property. They were relatively hidden behind a large tree, and peered carefully through its green leaves at the action now taking place.

The strange, scar-faced warrior was now making his way down the pathway, aiming towards a strange, orb-shaped spaceship. Red light streamed through the small, portal-like windows, and the approaching human's tip-toeing must have had something to do with whatever was inside the stationary vehicle.

Ona slipped silently over the fence, making her way between bushes and trees to get a better look. Tanjua waited patiently on the other side. The forest-haired teenager raised an eyebrow as the fighter approached the ship, peering inside, then stepped back in shock. His blubbery, blue-furred friend flew over, watching as well. They exchanged indefinite words, and went back to whatever training they had been conducting previously. 

Ona motioned to her San, who hopped over the fence easily and carried his mistress across the yard, somehow unnoticed. Tanjua seemed apt to such a talent. 

"Oh Yamcha de- OH MY!" Came a high pitched voice. Ona spun, seeing a bubbly blonde woman pouring tea into a long-overflowing cup. Immediately, the familiar aqua haired woman dashed from the house to see what was the matter.

"It's that girl from television.. The one who showed up when Frieza arrived!" Bulma cried, tilting her head. Ona nodded and raised one quizzical eyebrow, Tanjua standing protectively beside her. 

"Yes... I need to talk to someone. Anyone who knows what the hell is going on, anyway," the Saiyan said gruffly, straightening her posture. Bulma nodded furiously. 

"Of course, of course!" She responded, motioning towards what appeared to be her house. Ona patted Tanjua and motioned towards a tree, which provided decent shade. The San, reluctant to leave, nodded and flopped down on the grass as the forest-haired girl made her way towards the glass double doors indicated by her excitable hostess.

This was a strange planet. All the people were friendly and accepting, despite the fact she was an alien and had just shown up on a whim. The Gaijins, and the Letas as Ona had been told by her mother, were very accepting people and didn't mind giving shelter to others. But Ona, on the other hand, had a deep desire to just go and destroy things, as was exemplified when she blew up a whole portion of the forest after someone ticked her off. She believed this had to do with her father, who's one year influence on her changed her forever. 

The Saiyan made her way inside the glass double-doors, and instantly felt horribly cramped. She greatly disliked confined spaces, especially if it was closed off on all four sides. Ona had grown up on the wide open fields of Leta and the big, roomy caves of Gaija. 

The floor of the enclosure appeared to be patterned squares, decorated with various obnoxious colors. The ceiling was low, leaving Ona slightly confused as to why the building's outer roof was much higher. To each side were raised platforms, which weaved around the room's many walls. There were barely three feet of space between the counters and the wooden boxes above, which appeared to have a small door on the front complete with a decorative handle. There were strange gadgets and gizmos everywhere, but the most bizarre was the big, white, steel box which stood between the closest wall and the counters. It made loud growling sounds and was radiating cool air. 

"Never been in a house before, have ya?" Ona, still in shocked awe, shook her head. Bulma chuckled and motioned to a chair, which she had pulled out while the Saiyan was enraptured by her new surroundings. "Well, my name's Bulma, but I'm sure you know that by now. This is Earth," the blue-haired woman stated quite frankly, readjusting the blue headband used to hold back her wild, broccoli-like mane. Ona nodded.

"I sort of figured that." The other woman burst out laughing, causing Ona to raise an eyebrow in frustrated curiosity.

"You sound just like Vegeta! Ah, you really are a Saiyan," Bulma said, still chuckling. Ona snorted.

"Whatever you say. I'm sure there is a wide difference between me and the Prince," she replied, crossing her arms. 

"The Prince? You actually _call _him that? Oh my Kami, that's funny," Bulma retorted, obviously cracking herself up more than Ona. 

"Well, I came here for a reason. I want to know who all these other people are, including yourself. I'm here, and I don't think I'll be leaving anytime soon, so I might as well figure out what the hell is going on and beat the crap out of those "androids."" Ona said, growling. Bulma watched her with a slightly slackened jaw, then readjusted it and her eyes got back to normal.

"I'm Bulma. My father, Dr. Briefs, runs Capsule Corporation. We manufacture those little metal devices that that handsome stranger used," she responded with pride. Ona chuckled to herself. "The other Saiyan, with the black hair and the son... That's Goku, but I'm sure you figured that out already. His son's name is Gohan. Yamcha..." She paused, getting a schoolgirl-like daydream expression on her face. Ona had to whip the table with her tail to bring Bulma back to reality. "Yamcha's the other one who lives here. There's Tien, the triclops, and Chaotzu. They're best friends, and Chaotzu used to be this really powerful emperor. Then there's Piccolo.. Earth's protector's name is Kami, and Piccolo is his evil half. That's another story, though. Krillin, I've known just as long as Goku and Yamcha; we all met and had some pretty amazing adventures all those years ago," Bulma continued, sighing. She was obviously very fond of all these weak, obnoxious humans. Ona leaned back in her chair, ready to tune out Bulma. "Vegeta. He's another story as well... I'm sure, you being another pure Saiyan, he would tell you. Not with the same perspective as say, one of us, but you know what I mean," the aqua-haired woman implied, motioning towards the small ship outside. The Prince's massive energy was fluxuating maniacally inside the small structure, and Ona was intent on finding out why. What was the reason that he was training inside such a useless piece of machinery when he could be getting field training in the open air?

"I will talk to him some other time. I should probably leave now, there is no reason to further pester you. I'll be back in one month, but first..." Ona trailed off. Bulma raised an eyebrow, and decided to interrupt the Saiyan's train of thought.

"How about you stay here?!" She asked suddenly, grinning ear-to-ear. Ona raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to be stuck with Vegeta for the next two years, it might be nice to have another woman to talk to. You're just a teenager, but you are so.. mature. I'm impressed," Bulma praised, patting Ona on the shoulder. She tensed, but decided not to react like she normally would.

"I probably should go, Tanjua will need a place to sleep and such. He doesn't like being away from me.. He can get very dangerous if we are separated. It might be nice to train with Vegeta... Back home, no one was never strong enough to quench my thirst. But first, do you, by chance, have any food?" Ona inquired, her last question a high-pitched, residual plea. Bulma laughed.

"Of course. Though, I don't know how we'll cope feeding two Saiyans; but if Chi-Chi can do it, so can I!" The woman said defiantly, standing up and opening the bottom portion of the strange white box. That instant, the double doors opened and Vegeta stepped inside, toweling off his face with a white towel.

The Prince looked extremely different without his ridiculous pink shirt and yellow tights. He was now clad in nothing besides tight, spandex shorts, revealing every single ripple in his muscle. He was older, experienced, and had scars ornamenting his body to prove it. Ona gave an acknowledging nod, then turned her head from him to avoid eye-contact. Her mother had taught her a few things about Saiyan royalty; perhaps the wise old dame knew that her daughter would run into this entity at some point in her life. 

Vegeta was shocked by the respectful mode in which he was greeted. No one since Nappa had treated him properly, and even in such a mild, humble way, it felt good. He let out a tiny, wicked grin, and then proceeded to wipe it off with a casual scowl and bump Bulma from her spot in front of the refrigerator.

"HEY! I was STANDING there! Excuse me would be a proper PHRASE!" She hollered, causing Ona to jump. Vegeta continued to root trough the cooler, unfazed.

"You let her talk to you like that?" She whispered, so only the Prince could hear. He snickered, grabbed a few sodas, and left the kitchen just as quickly as he had come. Apparently, training was more important today than arguing or putting the obnoxious woman in her place.

"That man, I don't understand it. Well, anyways, as I was saying... You can have one of the guestrooms upstairs. Choose any one you like. I can get my father down to your ship so he can bring it to you, perhaps we could study it?" Bulma asked, the assault of questions causing Ona to take a few seconds and process them. Meanwhile, the older, bubbly woman set an array of foodstuffs on the counter. 

"Is there a place Tanjua can stay? And just as long as he doesn't harm it, I had to build that ship myself," Ona replied, crossing her arms and putting her feet on the table. Bulma spit whatever she had put in her mouth, apparently shocked.

"You built a ship YOURSELF?!" She cried, almost dropping a knife on her hand. Ona nodded, raising an eyebrow at the older woman's surprise.

"Well, yes, technically. I copied most of the technology from my own pod, and made it bigger to suit Tanjua," the Saiyan responded, tapping the table with her nails impatiently. Bulma restrained her bulging eyes and turned back to the task she had been previously performing.

"Built a pod all by yourself.. Wow. Impressive. I like to build things too, if that helps," she announced, placing a plate of sandwiches in front of Ona. The teenager grinned profusely, diving into the food.

"Shure. I lovthe to wthork wthith thechnology," she replied, the sound of her eating while talking making a shiver run up Bulma's spine.

"Finish eating, and we can talk later, alright?" Ona nodded and dug into her meal.

~*~

"So first, let's get you dressed. We can't have you walking around wearing.. _that_ all the time," Bulma said in disgust, eying the skimpy robe. Ona raised an eyebrow, and scowled resentfully.

"There's not a thing wrong with it!" She argued, holding onto the leather clothes like a four-year-old. Her blue-haired makeover artist grimaced.

"Just try these clothes on. If you don't like them, then wear whatever you want," Bulma reasoned, handing Ona a pair of blue jeans and a gray shirt reading, "You know you want me" in big, black letters. It was now the Saiyan's turn to sneer in disgust.

"Whatever." She disappeared into the bathroom. Bulma sat on the bed, looking at the clothing Ona had left behind. It was constructed of soft, amazingly light cloth, apparently some sort of leather. Suddenly, the door opened and in stepped Vegeta, tossing the armor he had been wearing onto the ground. Bulma looked up, and he replied by glaring.

"What are you doing here, woman?!" He demanded angrily. 

"This is MY room! What are _you_ doing here?!" She responded with equal ferocity, getting to her feet. 

"I was going to take a show-" Vegeta was cut off as Ona stepped out of the bathroom, having ripped the sleeves off the shirt, followed by a good half of the stomach. The words could still be seen clearly, and the Saiyan's exceedingly tight pants showed off her lower body quite well. 

Bulma began to clap, winking at Ona. She growled and spun around, grabbing her usual clothes and disappearing back into the bathroom. Vegeta continued to stare at the slammed door in shock, then spun to Bulma.

"I _was _going to take a shower, but since you women seem to have something _else_ going on, I'll just go RUN THROUGH THE SPRINKLER!" He shouted angrily and turned, stomping into the hall and down the stairs. Bulma burst out laughing.

"I'D LIKE TO SEE THAT!" She shouted after him, and a loud "HMPH!" could clearly be heard from the kitchen. 

~*~

Ona sat in the room that she had been dictated to, for she really couldn't decide which one of the many guest beds she liked better. She opted to keep her original clothing, but she was forced to wear some of the humans' ridiculous garments while her more preferred pair was being washed. 

The Saiyan sighed, flopping back onto her soft mattress. This was a strange planet, with a strange people, but its not like she didn't enjoy it. The blabbing blue-haired woman was good company, although Ona would never admit it. She got up and started to stretch, preparing for her first day of training in the yard Bulma had shown her the day before.

Leg up, crunch, a few reps of complete back twists... The flexible alien went on like this for some time, but her bloody blue jeans were causing large amounts of friction. Finally, Ona gave up and tromped down the stairs, hopefully she could take the two hours of free time while her clothes were being washed to eat.

The muscular, black-haired Prince had also chosen this time to take his lunch break, and merely glanced up as Ona entered the room. He assumed she was just that annoying Earth women, when the advancer's distinct energy made Vegeta do a double-take. His head shot up, watching the human-dressed teenager stop in her tracks.

"Prince," she mumbled, nodding her head respectively before entering the room. Vegeta's jaw loosened, but he quickly returned it to its rightful position. Ona proceeded past the table on light, bare feet, and began to rummage through the refrigerator.

"Who are you, anyway?" The older Saiyan asked, laying down his fork and pushing away the large, empty plate. Ona turned, raising an eyebrow.

"Ona," she replied, her tail swaying freely. She was obviously unafraid of Vegeta or her surroundings. A small grin flashed across his face before disappearing regally.

"I see. What are you doing here? I thought me and that clown Kakarot were the only full-blooded Saiyans left," Vegeta inquired again, amazed at himself that he was making conversation with such a random person. She merely intrigued him, for her composition and attitude were only that of a pure Saiyan.

"I was drawn here, I don't know how or why. I'm here, I.. almost feel at home," Ona confided, sighing as she sat down at the table across from him. A pile of various random foodstuffs stood in front of her, making a small vision block between them.

"Hah. I have the same problem, _sometimes,_" Vegeta replied, smirking nastily. This caused Ona to giggle, earning her a quizzical expression from the peeved Prince.

"I am just trying to understand all I've been told and put the pieces of the puzzle together. Perhaps then I will know what's going on and maybe try to help." Vegeta's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You're related to that idiot Kakarot, aren't you? That's who you look like!" He announced, getting up and eying her warily. Ona raised an eyebrow in response.

"I just met him. I have no idea who he is, and that wouldn't be any of your business anyway," she responded dully, then began to rifle through her new food acquisitions. Vegeta was about to give her a piece of his mind when it came to talking back so rudely, but he just couldn't bring himself to treat this dignified creature the way he treated that low-life human woman. 

~*~

**__**

Glossary: Kami - God

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Dedications: Mizu Megami - Thanks for all your reviews, I know, I'm just AWFUL, aren't I? Evil, evil, evil.

Vegeta's Gyal - Of course, always thank-you's for your empowering advice. Keep it up! Hah!

*Sugar* - Oh I know, it's brutal to wait that long, isn't it? I know the feeling. Hopefully I will be turning out more and sooner as my school studies give out on me.

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Schedule - Hopefully the next chapter won't be as long. Next chapter due Monday, May 6, 2002. 

****

Something to Check Out: Of course, read Vegeta's Gyal's fics "An Unexpected Love" and "Something More," as well as her new addition "Vegeta's Childhood." On my website, http://www.freewebz.com/eriedragon, I now have judge openings for both judging Fanart contests, Fanfic contests, and helping me grant Dragon Awards. See the Contests and Awards page for more information.

~Majin Niña~


	4. You're an Optimist..

**__**

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Dragon Ball Z or any of its characters. I do not profit from this fan fiction in any way. All original characters and plots are © ErieDragon 2002.

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Author's Note: I'm not going to be able to update this as much as I had hoped. Schoolwork is catching up with me and I had the inane desire to start a new fic, called "Tarnished." Warnings are already listed. Since it was Thursday by the time I started this, the chapter is either going to be shorter or published later. Sorry, peeps. Here goes... I've been having writer's block lately, I know where the plot is going, the only dilemma is figuring out how to get there. Wish me luck.

Chapter 3

"You're an optimist.."

~*~

Ona trudged across the muddy lawn, her bare feet covered in grass and dirt, clinging to her wet skin. The rain had finally stopped, and she hadn't trained at all that day. Damn the Prince and his little machine.

Vegeta peered out the window, watching the teenage Saiyan kick in frustration at the innocent blades of grass. She began her kata routine, moving like a speeding bullet, with the amazing addition of feminine grace. Ona was like living water, she formed and moved around the air that engulfed her, the moisture building on her brow. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she was _darned _familiar. Vegeta was never mistaken.

Suddenly, Ona's foot slipped out from under her as she kicked, knocking her onto her back. She lay disdainfully in the soggy grass for what seemed like an eternity, glaring menacingly at the black, overcast sky. This planet sure was hell.

He turned off the gravity, making his way across an anti-grav tile towards the GR's door. It slid open, allowing the stocky, muscular Saiyan to make his way across the lawn. The Sun was nowhere in sight, and the trees and leaves glistened with vast amounts of dew. Vegeta almost slipped numerous times, so he stuck to the cement pathway as he made his way towards the short, white fence surrounding Ona's training yard.

She opened two bright, onyx-emerald eyes, feeling an energy presence approaching her. The Prince? She got up, wiping her soaked back. Her skimpy robe hung over her like it weighed twenty pounds, drooping from the moisture condensing on the fabric. Ona leaned against a nearby tree, watching the older Saiyan step up to her awkwardly. Luckily, the forest-haired teenager was barely shorter than Vegeta himself, so he didn't feel too put off. Ona nodded her head respectfully.

"Your business..?" She asked politely, but the phrase was purely Saiyan. Vegeta chuckled nastily and cast her a villainous, sidelong glance.

"While you're out here kicking at nothing and falling in the mud, that gravity room over there is supplying me with training bots and simulations," Vegeta mocked, leaning with his elbow against the small fence. Ona's eyebrow shot up.

"So _that's_ what it is! A gravity simulator! Figures," she replied, sighing. That would be ideal for training. The stout, black-haired man sneered, shifting his weight. The already dense clouds above began to squeeze together, as if being compressed by some immense force. They became black and foreboding, causing Ona to shiver. Vegeta turned and raised an eyebrow, watching her with masked curiosity. 

"Is that what you came to tell me?" She inquired, tightening her robe slightly, an automatic reaction from the breeze. He snorted.

"Actually, yes. That clown Kakarot is off training with weaklings, and..." Vegeta paused, absorbing the proud, Saiyan glow in her eyes. "You aren't one of them," he finished, closing his eyes and tilting his nose into the air arrogantly. Ona snickered. 

"You're asking me if I'll train with you," she clarified, earning a glare. She shrugged. "Sure. Kicking asses on Gaija was a little too easy for my taste," Ona added, responding to his impudent expression with mocking malice. Vegeta's face was clouded in surprise for a split second before he turned, stalking back to the gravity room. She grinned and followed, stepping precariously into the lighted enclosure. The door closed behind her and the simulation began.

~*~

"LUNCH!" They hollered at once, the glass door opening and closing so fast it almost flew off its hinges. If it had any left, that is. Bulma came running from her lab, regarding the two sweaty Saiyans with almost annoyed curiosity. 

"What the hell did I miss?!" She cried, offering a chair to Ona and shuffling away. She was about to take the seat when she received a dark, evil eye from her sparring partner. The teenager hastily passed it to him, pulling out her own. They sat with a thunk, four elbows hitting the table at once. 

"For being untrained, you fight decently," Vegeta commented as he stuffed sandwich after sandwich into his bursting, chipmunk cheeks. Ona stifled a giggle.

"I'm not completely untrained. My fa-" She stopped herself too late, earning a raised eyebrow. She shrugged. "I learned from my adopted father on Gaija." Vegeta continued to stare, his expression changing from curious to demanding. She waved her hands in the air in surrender. "What?!" He shrugged, turning back to his food, where he focused his newfound attention. Ona sighed, leaning back in her chair, pushing her empty plate away. Her tail danced in the air lazily, earning a jealous glance from the spike-haired man. 

"So Ona, where _did_ you learn to fight?" Bulma chimed in, making her appearance in the kitchen known. Ona smirked slightly. "I saw you practicing, you move like water," she added, smiling. The Saiyan's eyebrow shot up. A compliment? Well, okay then.

"Like I said. My adopted father." Vegeta eyed her, putting down his fork momentarily. 

"Those are very Saiyan moves. No alien would, or could, teach you some of the tricks you pulled on me," he growled, giving her a prodding glare. Ona glared back, then sat against the arm of her chair. "It's not like you would know him anyway," she snarled, snatching a stray piece of crumb off her already licked-clean plate. Bulma raised an eyebrow at the Saiyan teen's sudden mood change.

"Hah. Doesn't matter. How old are you.. 15? Vegeta-sei was destroyed long before that," Vegeta snorted, leaning back. "I'd most likely know if he was still alive. We are the only pure Saiyans left." There was a small hint of resentment in his voice, but it quickly disappeared.

"He's probably dead. I.. I never saw either of my parents again, they sent me off when I was five. I know that my mother is dead, but my father hasn't come looking for me. I doubt he's still alive either, so it doesn't matter," Ona growled, getting up. She stalked away, but Vegeta's voice paralyzed her momentarily.

"You are a Saiya-jin." Ona stopped dead in her tracks, turning slowly to face him. A wicked grin crossed his face momentarily. "You respect those who you should, and you are strong. The way you fight, it's familiar, but more refined. Who _are_ you?" The Prince's voice was genuinely curious, sending a surprised chill up Bulma's spine. She watched the arrogant alien's disposition change dramatically as he addressed the short, forest-haired teenager. 

"You wouldn't know my parents. I never met any Saiyans except them," she said at length, turning fully to face him. This is when Bulma felt it in her best interests to exit. She'd find out this information anyway.. later.

"You're wrong," Vegeta announced, his eyebrows clenched in a natural scowl. He had a high widow's peak, something Ona was eerily familiar with. "You look like someone. Tell me," he demanded. She snorted.

"Fine." Ona walked over, sitting down once more in her chair. She drew her revealing cloak in slightly tighter, peering at the Prince. He followed suit, leaning back lazily as if in a recliner. He was dressed in traditional Saiyan armor, not the ridiculous wear her papa had always sported. "My mother. She had green hair and eyes. She was very crude, but raised me on her own," Ona began, tossing a renegade crumb into her mouth. Vegeta raised an eyebrow and glared, as if informing her of the fact he was uninterested in anything except their names.

"My Papa only called her "woman," like you. Very strange resemblance in attitude there," Ona snorted. "Khune. That was her name." 

Suddenly, Vegeta leaped to his feet, his hands on the table and his eyes wide. 

"Who was your father?!" He demanded, a strange look crossing his eyes briefly. It was surprise, mixed with anticipation. Perhaps he was not so unlearned in surviving Saiyans after all.

"Papa? He only lived with us for a year, when he trained me. His name.. My mother told me when I was two years old." Ona laughed, but Vegeta's avid expression quickly brought her to her answer. "Radditz." Vegeta quivered, then gradually sat in his chair, so shocked he moved like a robot. "How do you know my father?"

Vegeta cracked a nasty grin, and wrinkled his brow. 

"He was one of the assholes I worked with, after Vegeta-sei was destroyed. He was a mere third-class Saiyan... He's Kakarot's brother, you know," he snorted. It was Ona's turn for her eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"How do you know that?!" She demanded, ready to leap to her feet much in the same fashion he had. Vegeta chuckled.

"The idiot came here and fought him. Kakarot killed your father, I suppose," he leaned back, watching her reaction carefully. Rather than bursting into a million angry pieces, Ona clutched the chair's arms and glared. "I remember your mother, too. She had quite the influence on that asshole Radditz," Vegeta said, more to himself than anyone. He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned forward on the table, his armor clinking against the weak wood. "He suffered a great deal when that bitch left, made me lose my lunch, if I remember correctly," he snarled, earning an equally irate expression from Ona. 

"Now you know who I am. Can we get back to training? All this talking is giving me a headache," Ona snapped, getting up and stalking outside. Vegeta snickered, rising slowly as Bulma came in through the double sliding glass doors.

"What did you say _this_ time?" She gave him a slightly annoyed but mostly unreadable glare. Vegeta shrugged her off and walked off, heading towards the GR where a gravity simulation was already in session.

~*~

Ona paced, becoming quite irritated. Tanjua watched with significantly paled interest, sitting in the pathetic shade of a small, lonely tree. The sun bore down hard upon them, but the green-haired teenager didn't seem to care less as she strode back and forth tirelessly. It was exactly a month today from when she had arrived on Earth, and the sun was already sinking low in the sky. Maybe the purple-haired stranger wouldn't keep his promise at all. Maybe he was just another asshole in a world of assholes, lying to everyone he had come to warn. 

Ona shook this thought. Strange as it seemed, all these humans... They were pure. They had such good intentions, save Vegeta, and fought only to protect their planet. It was an admirable trait, indeed. 

Suddenly, her San leaped to his feet, letting off one of his loud, bizarre barks. Such an action had awoken her and everyone within a 2 mile radius numerous times, causing a great ruckus and a good deal of complaints. 

The familiar white, three-legged ship had appeared in the air, and was now descending to the ground a short distance away. Ona leaped on Tanjua's back, and the two appeared beside the landing spot within a second. A wave of dust blew in every direction as the vehicle's square feet touched down, sending up a cloud of warm, rushing air from its engines. The fervent whirring soon came to a stop, and the clear, glass hatch opened.

"About time," Ona said, her eyes narrowed. Trunks merely grinned and jumped out of the machine, landing with Saiyan grace on the cracked desert earth. He approached her and extended a hand.

"Trunks, at your service," he said, bearing a genuine smile. Ona's face was painted in shock, until she realized that his hand was not extended for no reason. She accepted the gesture equally and nodded respectfully.

"Another Prince," she remarked, smirking. 

"I may have just only met my father, but you remind me of him so much its ridiculous," Trunks grinned, turning to his time machine. Ona watched in curiosity as he pressed a small, red button, the vehicle evaporating into a small capsule. Her eyebrows shot up, although the dinocap method did not entirely escape her comprehension by now. "Where are you living now?" Trunks inquired, tucking the capsule away into a pocket of his baggy black pants. 

"Actually, your mother offered me space at Capsule Corporation," Ona replied, smiling a little at the uncanny kindness the humans had offered her so far. He nodded and smiled knowingly.

"That's my mother," Trunks smirked, the deep red of the setting sun bathing his lavender hair in a deep brownish hue. He fixed his eyes on the teenaged Saiyan; she was pure, unlike himself, so her tail waved freely. He was suddenly washed by jealousy at being without his Saiyan trademark, but he supposed it was for the better. Her eyes were a dark emerald, bordering on the edge of pitch black. Her hair was wild, but apparently Bulma had subdued a good portion of it with some kind of mousse. Her bangs were wild around her pale face, her skin creamy against the deep, forest-green shades of her mane. Trunks grinned slightly, and Ona noticed his eyes hadn't focused on anything beside her face for the past ten seconds. She growled.

"What are _you_ staring at?" She demanded, her voice edgy. Trunks smirked.

"You just seem really familiar," he replied, sighing. Ona shifted uncomfortably.

"A coincidence, for sure," she told him, averting her gaze from his. Trunks nodded.

"For sure." Luckily, Ona didn't notice his stare travel from her face to her mostly bare body, where her robe hung loosely over matured, shapely breasts. 

"Well, I found out most of what I wanted to know from your parents," she said at last, Trunks' eyes shifting from her chest to her face in the nick of time. "But it would be rude for you to come here and me not keep my word. I suppose I'll be leaving now," Ona snorted, whistling to her San. Trunks lowered his head. 

"You've spoken to my father?" Ona's eyebrow shot up, and she turned to look at him.

"Of course. He's not very talkative when he fights or eats, but I have weaseled a great deal out of him," she replied, a relatively confused look on her face in reaction to his doubt. Trunks grinned.

"So he's found someone to talk to," he remarked, shaking his head in mild disbelief. Ona rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you say." Trunks raised his gaze and snorted, leaning against a large boulder. 

"So you fight with my father, then? Would you fight with me?" He asked at length, causing Ona to shift and stand up straight.

"Uh.. Yes, I suppose.. But why? You are a.. Super Saiyan, so you can easily beat me. Pointless," she commented, tightening her robe in preparation for a battle. Trunks smirked.

"Saiyans gain power when they're beaten, and I think there's more to you than just strength," he replied. His perception was more in depth than Ona had guessed at first. She nodded.

"This is true. Then, let's fight." She shifted into a fighting stance, her hands in a defensive mode about her face. Trunks smiled in appreciation.

"You have an excellent stance," he observed, pushing a lock of lavender hair from his similarly colored eyes. He was remarkably familiar to Vegeta, in all ways except hairstyle and attitude. Ona merely powered up, waiting for him to do so as well. Trunks grinned and raise his fists to either side of his head, ready for a launch of attacks. This, of course, was the Saiyan style.

Ona grinned. Her opponent was expecting a barrage, and using the unexpected to her advantage was her specialty. She had demonstrated this many times before while fighting Vegeta, leading her to discover he was quite the sore loser. Trunks watched her with curiosity, pulling off his hindering purple vest and heavy sword. 

They stared off for a good two minutes before Ona finally spoke.

  
"Are you going to attack, or what?" Trunks sneered, tossing his hair back with a flick of his head. She grinned back and dropped her stance.

"No." He raised one thick, lavender eyebrow. "Let me train some more with your father, then I will fight you. He says he wants to teach me a few things.. I may have a new sensei after all," Ona requested, Tanjua watching from behind a tree. He had shown up when called, but wanted to watch the fight before interrupting. He knew Trunks would never hurt his mistress, so the San merely looked on in disinterest. 

"My father's going to train you?" Trunks asked in surprise. Ona nodded, watching him curiously.

"Yes.. He wants to reach that silly Super Saiyan level or whatever, and he wants a strong sparring partner to help him do it. Kakarot is already too strong for him, so those are pointless losses. Although, since Saiyans gain power from surviving a lost battle, I think he just wants an excuse to win for once," Ona chuckled. Yet, even though she was supposedly much weaker than Vegeta, he _still_ lost often. Trunks smirked.

"I'll give you a month," he said, taking his time machine capsule from a pocket. Ona nodded and turned on her heel, leaping onto Tanjua's back in one swift, graceful motion. The sun had officially disappeared behind the desert's high stone cliffs, casting dark shadows across the dry, cracked earth. The sky glowed a brilliant red, just enough to see by without the moon's gentle assistance. 

"Until then," she replied, waving. Trunks cracked a small grin as the San spun, taking off in a pillow of dust. 

~*~

"I'm going to take you up on your offer," Ona said, dropping to the ground in defeat. She was tired, overworked, and ready for a good night's rest. Vegeta sneered, setting one foot on the tile lightly.

"Simulation off," he commanded. The red light faded, and suddenly Ona felt weightless. She got up, flicking sweat from her brow. Vegeta glanced at her exhausted figure before responding. "Good. We may be able to save this old, worthless rock after all." It had taken her at least half of her allotted month to accept, her Saiyan pride always a large factor in the decision making process. The black haired man watched her thoughtful expression, leaning against the GR's wall.

"I never would have guessed that Radditz could sire one such as you," he remarked. Ona wasn't sure if this was intended as a compliment or an insult, so she decided to give Vegeta benefit of the doubt. 

"He only trained me for a year, when I was five. It was more my mother who raised me," she replied, sighing. Vegeta raised an eyebrow and leaned against the gravity generator, not in the mood to argue with her storytelling. 

"I remember your mother.." he suddenly interjected, his nasty smirk disappearing for a more inwardly thoughtful expression. Ona gazed at him in surprise. "She turned me down for your father," Vegeta added, snorting. 

"You met her? She never mentioned you. She... Mom never talked kindly about other Saiyans except her sensei," Ona admitted, sighing deeply. Vegeta stood up straight, opening the door to the gravity room. Ona followed him out, the two walking in what appeared to be deep concentration towards the main compound building, a.k.a. Bulma's house. 

"She was the only female Saiyan left in the universe, and your father won her. He went into a mad rage when she escaped Frieza... He disappeared for an entire year. Said he got stranded somewhere in space. When he came back, he was never the same again. Pure evil, more than I have ever seen a being besides Frieza go." Vegeta grabbed a towel from the hangar just inside the double doors, wiping sweat from his face. Ona followed suit and glanced at him, then walked briskly and silently up the stairs.

"I'm going to take her to the Sons' tomorrow. Now that she knows Goku's her uncle," Bulma said from her spot on the other side of the kitchen. Vegeta jumped back in surprise, not having noticed her before. He snarled.

"Don't. She may kill him before I do," he said in a low, spine-chilling voice. Bulma merely shrugged.

"If he can defend himself against you, he can defend against her I'm sure," she said confidently, casting him a smug sneer before stalking off. Vegeta let out a string of curses, earning him a loud guffaw from the hallway Bulma had disappeared into. 

~*~

"Where did you take the time capsule?" His mother asked as she cleared the table. Trunks gazed up from the slice of toast he was finishing off.

"What do you mean..?" He inquired conspicuously, earning a laugh from the long-haired Bulma. 

"I saw you leave with the capsule this morning," she replied, raising an eyebrow. A small blush crept across the boy's face as he sorted out a reply.

"I had to give someone a few answers," Trunks said calmly, licking his fingers free of crumbs. Bulma sat down across from him, eying the boy. "I have to go back soon again anyway. I told her.. erm, I told them I would be back in a month. I'm thinking of going back tonight," he informed her, leaning back in the chair. Bulma sat up and re-ponytailed her hair, giving him a suspicious look.

"Alright. You're grown up, you know what you're doing," Bulma said casually, but in such a way that a chill ran up Trunks' spine. She was the product of years of warring, as was he; but she was in a different way, and that result could freeze a black widow in its tracks. Trunks nodded in agreement and got up, quickly dispensing his plate and rushing out front. Bulma chuckled to herself.

~*~

Ona flew up, her legs coiling as she pressed her feet against the lower wall of the GR. Vegeta floated in the air, duking it out with a bot while trying to keep her in his hindsight. Ona sprung, opening her hand. 

"Ba.. Ku.. DAN!" She cried, shooting the beam straight at Vegeta. He spun, reflecting it off his hand, leaving himself wide open for the bot to redirect a previous blast at his back. Luckily, Ona's eyes gave it away and the Prince turned, dodging just in time. Instead, the beam went straight at the younger female, knocking her into the other wall of the GR. Her eyes snapped closed and she slid down the wall, a large indent remaining from her impact. Vegeta's eyes widened and he flew towards her, examining the unconscious Saiyan. 

"Ona?" He inquired sternly, but upon no response, dove in for a closer look. Her breathing was haggard and slow, a wave of concern rushing over him. Vegeta shook it off and picked her up, kicking down the door of the gravity room. He flew across the yard, using his wind to pull the heavy glass door open. 

Bulma looked up in shock as Vegeta charged into the house, reigning to a stop at the table. In his arms lay Ona, her revealing robe hanging limply to reveal one full breast, but the Prince didn't even notice. 

"Medical emergency," he snarled, and Bulma hurriedly ushered them outside and to the medical wing.

~*~

Ona opened her eyes, and the fuzzy white world around her gradually came into focus. No one appeared to be around, so she sat up, despite the easily broken restraints that two IVs provided. She rubbed her face with her fists and glanced about the room, which she soon realized to be her quarters, but equipped with a heart rate machine and a few other uninteresting gizmos. 

Ona stood up, her shaky legs eventually granting her smooth passage towards the door. She heard a rustle and a small blast of wind touched her face. She glanced around outside the room for the movement's source, but she could only see the long hall ahead. Shrugging, Ona began her descent through the corridor and down the hallway.

Bulma let out a shocked yelp when she saw the yawning Saiyan come down from her room, grabbing the advancer's attention. Ona blinked and rubbed her eyes, seeing a few plates of uneaten food sitting on the table. She hopped enthusiastically down the remainder of the stairs, making a leap from the bottom step into the chair. It wobbled as she landed, but was silenced when Ona began to devour the meal at hand. 

"What are you doing up?!" Bulma screeched, giving her a hard look. The Saiyan grinned and shoved an egg in her mouth.

"Ith feelthing finthe," Ona replied between gulps and burps, wiping her face briefly of any excess debris.

"That was Vegeta's. I think he's going to want it," Bulma remarked, eying the half devoured course. Ona grinned.

"Then why don't you make some more?" She suggested snidely, causing Bulma to growl. The blue-haired woman got up and pulled some more ingredients from the refrigerator, steam ready to come out her ears like a train spout. 

"He's going to want it because he's been outside your room since the day we put you in there," Bulma informed her, sloshing some milk around in a little metal stirring bowl. Ona raised an eyebrow.

"Why the hell would he do that? How long was I _asleep_?" She asked, confused. Bulma grinned wickedly.

"You've been conked out for two days, and he was concerned about you," the older woman replied, setting a plate of french toast on the table. Ona didn't mind the food at all, though Vegeta often reminded her that she should. Apparently, Bulma's food was supposed to taste horrible.

"About me? I think either you or he has lost all sanity," Ona said in a very matter-of-fact tone, causing Bulma to snort. Before Ona could rebuke, Vegeta came thundering down the stairs, slamming harshly into his chair. Ona raised an eyebrow, but the male Saiyan was already gorging himself with bacon.

"Well Ona, while I'm thinking about it, Goku invited you over. I think he wants to discuss some things," Bulma told her, expecting a loud, annoyed response. The answer surprised her.

"Sure, whatever." Vegeta glanced up and raised an eyebrow, but apparently Ona couldn't think less of the issue. She was already stuffing her face nonchalantly. He watched her eat and smiled inwardly that she was back to her old self. Bulma watched the expression, a grin spreading across her face. Perhaps there was hope for the arrogant prince after all.

~*~

Ona stared out the window, gripping the door handle. The confined space was enough to annoy her, but flying a few thousand feet above the ground in a tiny, capsule-made vehicle had her practically gasping for air. Bulma sighed.

"Calm down. You're perfectly fine, and your pet will survive without you," she attempted to assure the frightened teenager. Ona spun, glaring at the blue-haired woman.

"His name is Tanjua, and I don't CARE! I just want to get out of here. Hurry up," she demanded, glaring. Bulma shrugged.

"We'll get there when we get there," she said, leaning on the steering wheel. The capsule jet sped up, careening through the air like a lost horse. Ona grabbed the door harder, shooting Bulma an icy stare.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She demanded, rattling the frame for effect.

"Getting there faster," Bulma replied, smirking. Ona merely groaned in anger and turned to look back out the window, fuming. 

The grassy hills flew by, eventually morphing into tall, pine forested mountains. The jet swooped low, homing in on a small valley. In it stood a small, white capsule house, surrounded by trees. Bulma reigned the vehicle in, circling low to the ground. Ona closed her eyes to avoid screaming as they came closer and closer, until suddenly the floor below her connected with solid earth. She instantly opened the door, bursting out and running at least ten yards away from the capsule car. 

"Ona? Bulma? It's you!" Came a high voice. Ona spun around, seeing a raven-haired woman coming towards them. She stepped aside as Chichi dove past, embellishing Bulma in a hug. The Saiyan snorted and turned, feeling many thick energy signatures just a short distance away. She immediately rose into the air and flew off, leaving Chichi and Bulma to chatter like gossipy little girls.

One of the energies was familiar; it had come from Goku when he powered up and became a Super Saiyan. This whole transformation still confused her, because only once had her mother ever told her the legend of the Super Saiyan. Vegeta never wanted to talk about it, but would still mutter things about it under his breath and include references to "Kakarot."

The three fighters ahead soon came into view; fighting Goku was the strange green-skinned alien, no longer sporting his obnoxious white cape. Goku's son, Gohan, floated in the air closer to her, watching the battle with interest. Ona approached, making her presence known as Gohan spun around.

"Oh! I remember you!" He said, grinning. The teenager turned and raised an eyebrow, confused at his surprised and enthusiastic greeting. "Hello!" 

"Um, hello," Ona replied, flustered. Gohan merely continued to smile and turned, watching the battle. "Kakarot called me here. Why?"

"I think he wants to talk to you 'bout stuff," the boy said simply, dismissing it instantly as he was engulfed in the excitement before him. Ona sighed and approached the two, causing the green Namek to stop and look at her, grabbing Goku's attention as well.

"Ah! You're here!" He said, smiling and waving. Ona nodded, still disoriented by all this alien friendliness. Piccolo merely rolled his eyes and flew past her, whispering to Gohan. The boy nodded and turned, both flying off to start a sparring session of their own. 

"What did you want?" Ona inquired rudely, descending to the ground. Goku merely continued to smile and follow suit.

"I wanted to know firstly, who you are. We never got introduced," he replied, winking. She raised an eyebrow.

"That's fine by me. Your son was present when I spoke of myself," Ona snorted, stating the obvious but still earning that goofy expression from her uncle. Though, he didn't know it just yet and she wasn't intent on telling him. It was a shame and a dishonor to be related to such a dimwitted airhead. Though, perhaps his strength and power made up for it. Doubtful.

"Yeah, he told us. You're from.. Gaija? Something like that. Your name's Ona. That's all I know," Goku said, raising his hands into the air. Ona chuckled nastily.

"That's all there is to know, and all you need to know," she replied cryptically, receiving a mystified gaze in return. 

"Bulma told me there's more to you. She said it would do me good to know," Goku implied, his moronic grin returning. Ona sighed and rolled her eyes.

"That loudmouth. It's not like I'm Gaijan, I'm sure you can figure that much out. I actually arrived there in a pod when I was five," she began, leaning back against a large, thick tree trunk. Goku smiled, the idea of a story appealing to him. Perhaps she would like this big lug after all; Ona loved to tell stories.

"My mother.. My mother died after my father sent me off. You know him," she said, shuddering. Goku raised an eyebrow. "You.. you killed him." His eyes widened in surprise, his mind automatically delving through memories of every person he had ever killed. Whether it be scum or villain, he focused around two Saiyans. 

"Nappa? You're _Nappa_'s daughter?!" Goku asked, shocked. Ona frowned and raised one eyebrow.

"Who the hell are you talking about?" Goku sighed and relaxed slightly.

"Oh, thank Kami.." he said, wiping his forehead. _Wait, two Saiyans. Two of them have come to Earth, two of them I have killed. If it's not Nappa, then.. _"RADDITZ?!" He screeched, leaping to his feet. Ona responded with equal surprise, tumbling back at least four feet. 

"Uh, yeah.. That was my father. Radditz. Papa wasn't that bad, though," she said in confusion. Goku thwacked himself on the forehead.

"You're an optimist.." he replied, flopping back to the ground. Ona rolled her eyes. "Wait, so that basically makes you my niece? Jeez, never thought I'd be an uncle," he said, laughing. 

"Well, try not to make it common knowledge. I'm ashamed as it is to _know_ you," she said, glaring. With that, Ona got up and flew off before Goku could make a rebuke. 

~*~

**__**

A/N: Oh my, you have no idea how hard that was. I never knew writing a chapter could involve so little time and so much writer's block. ACK! Here it is, as promised.. I will never, ever say a chapter is going to be early again. EVER. Because it's a lie. ;)

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Dedications: Vegeta's Gyal - Of course. Check out her fics, and thanks for all your advice and helpfulness! Everyone, Khune will most likely be making an appearance later on in her fiction, "Vegeta's Childhood." 

Mizu Megami - Faithful reviewer! Constantly battering me with the fact I'm evil for making her wait so long. Thanks for your feedback =Þ

Kioko - Thank you for your reviews! Well, the attached stuff is for MediaMiner.org, actually, so I'll try to put a link in here at some point for the pictures. They aren't really worth it, but that's okay D

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Schedule: Next chapter due Monday, April 13, 2002. To be notified of updates, email me with your request at maxchick@mad.scientist.com or leave your address in a review.

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Something to Check Out: Of course, take a look at my website, the Erie Dragon at http://www.freewebz.com/eriedragon. I'm building the Archives right now, which will consist of a photo gallery, a HUGE fan fiction gallery, and all kinds of other stuff. I have forums up right now, featuring weekly Seminars, and I have uploaded an Art page and an informant of my Fanart/Fanfic Contests and the infamous Dragon awards. Submit today to maxchick@mad.scientist.com.

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Read my other fics: Tarnished, a new fic, and I Wish..., a small B/V songfic. 

~Majin Niña~

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	5. Taking to the Air

**__**

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Dragon Ball Z or any of its characters. This fiction is purely for enjoyment and I do not make a profit off of it. All original plots and characters © ErieDragon 2002.

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Author's Note: I had trouble proofreading my last chapter, because I had ice cream before bed and then my dad gave me melatonin, so my eyes were like lead weights but I was so doped on caffeine that I was spasming. After that insane run-on sentence, I'm going to inform everybody that I may either 1. be making my chapters shorter or 2. extending the deadline. I'm just getting very pressed for time, although school is coming to an end soon. I really need reviews to keep me going, so far it's only my dedicated pal Vegeta's Gyal's encouragement that fuels me (and a few other awesome people who will be mentioned at the end ;). If this chapter comes out late, all you can do is blame yourselves..

Chapter 4

Taking to the Air

~*~

Ona decided to fly back rather than sit on the verge of death in a car with that crazy woman. She thought about her brief conversation with Goku and sighed, coming to a stop to float in midair above the forest. Train. That's all she should focus on is to train. Her own prince would teach her, a powerful boy from the future would test her, and all she had to do was work. Fair.

After less than an hour of lazy flying, she descended on the Capsule Corp. compound. The GR was on, but as soon as Ona came low enough, the simulation was turned off and Vegeta stepped out, eyeing her.

"How did it go?" He asked in a low, menacing tone. Ona merely sighed and walked towards the ship's open door.

"Fine. He weaseled it out of me," she replied, flopping on the tile floor of the gravity room. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him come in, a quizzical expression on his face. "I can't believe I had to go alone. Your insane girlfriend almost KILLED me!" Ona scolded, covering her eyes in annoyance. A shocked expression crossed Vegeta's face.

"MY GIRLFRIEND?!" He hollered, grabbing Ona by the collar of her robe. Her eyes widened as she was brought face-to-face with the fuming prince. "I HATE the woman JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO, AND MORE! Don't _ever_ suggest that AGAIN!" Vegeta practically screamed in her face, causing the teenager to wince. She glared back at him with equal ferocity, hoping to mask the fright in her expression. His scowl softened slightly and he released her, sending the appalled Ona into a heap on the floor of the GR. Vegeta turned and walked off, muttering something about grabbing a bite to eat.

~*~

"Vegeta." A pause. "VEGETA!" His eyes snapped open, seeing a frustrated blue face above him. Shocked, he leaped to his feet in an automatic fighting stance, glaring menacingly at the woman before him. 

Bulma put her hands on her hips, watching Vegeta pant like a rabid animal. He soon calmed down, realizing that he wasn't being attacked. 

"What the HELL do you WANT?!" He cried, recovering enough to wipe sweat from his brow. Bulma chuckled.

"Aren't you spastic. Where's Ona? She took off from Goku's, and I haven't seen her since. She left her robe here and took some of my clothes," Bulma informed him, raising an eyebrow quizzically. Vegeta's eyes widened in surprise.

"She's gone?" He asked, a concerned tone entering his voice briefly. He soon recovered and crossed his arms, regaining his snobby composure. "I don't care. It's not my problem." Bulma snorted.

"Yeah. Okay. Just thought you might care to know that a good portion of the Southern Capital is missing," she said, shrugging and walking out of the room. Suddenly, a hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around.

"WHAT?!" Vegeta cried into her face, her hair flying in the wind. She chuckled.

"You heard me. The media is blaming an "alien who shoots rockets from its hands!"" Bulma informed him, turning and walking down the stairs. Vegeta stared ahead absent-mindedly, his cheek twitching.

"Then what do you propose we do?" Bulma stopped her descent and turned, smirking.

"Perhaps you can talk some sense into her." 

~*~

__

You idiot. Brat, where ARE you?! Vegeta snarled to himself, flying in no particular direction. Energy signatures were popping up in tiny specks all around him, and he couldn't lock on Ona's own power. He sighed, slowing down and glancing in every direction. Suddenly, his keen Saiyan eyesight caught glimpse of a small, white speck. Energy radiated from it...

"There you are!" Vegeta cried, taking off towards it.

Ona scowled, firing absently into the countryside. Various cliffs exploded, sending heaps of rock and debris sailing through the air. This wasn't nearly as exciting as destroying cities, but she realized that the deaths of innocent people might just send one of the other Saiyans currently residing on the planet over the edge. So, instead, she hacked Bulma's computer and eventually broadcasted a warning to her intended site of destruction. The place was completely evacuated when Ona arrived on a bloodlust.

She floated in the air, one hand supporting her chin as she shot pathetic blasts into the ocean. Tidal waves sopped the small desert island, which resided just off the main coast. Tanjua was still at Capsule Corp., where Ona had instructed him to stay. The San's worried expression was no consolation for her actions, and she eventually circled to the ground and landed on a heap of upturned dirt. Ona still wasn't sure why she had taken on such foolish actions, but she didn't particularly care at this point. Her Prince had given her a verbal beating that was good enough to render their deal off. If she couldn't get training from him, she'd have to train herself. Yeah, randomly destroying civilization was training. Her mother would have _totally_ agreed with that. Ona shrugged this thought off, returning to the bleakness that she had taught herself through meditation and mind manipulation.

Suddenly, a large, powerful hand gripped her shoulder. Ona jumped in surprise, but was smashed father into the earth by the authoritative weight, a squeak barely escaping her jammed lips. 

"What. The. HELL?!" Vegeta hollered, pulling her up by the shoulder and slamming her into a nearby boulder. Ona sunk to the ground, rubbing the back of her head as she attempted to regain her frame of mind.

__

Who.. wha? Where? How..? She quickly recovered from her mental disbandment and stood up, dusting off her rump. She'd be sore for days. Ona glared at him and strode across the dirt, coming right up to his chest. Vegeta's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he didn't budge an inch. Arms crossed, he glared right back at her.

"What do _you _want?!" Ona demanded, grimacing as she stared thickly at him. 

"To find out what in hell you think you're doing!" He responded. Suddenly, she went toppling sideways as the back of a powerful hand slammed into her cheek. Rubbing her face, Ona glared at him with fire in her eyes. Without saying a word, she walked right back over to Vegeta and shot him an evil look once more. 

__

She has almost as much guts as that obnoxious woman, he thought to himself as Ona cast him a nasty stare. Suddenly, his face was jerked sideways as her hand collided with his cheekbone. Vegeta's head snapped back, his eyes wide in pure anger, his fists clenching, his body trembling from rage. Ona took a step back, watching the expression on his face.

__

Oops, she thought as she began to back away slowly, turning on her heels and running. She was instantly brought down by a massive force, which impacted her body into the cracked, sandy earth. Ona attempted to recover, but was quickly hauled up by her collar once more. She merely grinned in a moronic, ready-to-pass-out fashion, then collapsed as a hand collided with her head.

~*~

"She's waking up!" An excited, high pitch voice squealed. Ona gradually opened her eyes, peering around. Total deja vu; the world around her was blurry, and only focused to reveal a mass of blue hair. She opened her eyes fully, trying to jump back in shock, but soon discovered she was restrained. 

"Wh-wh-where am I?" Ona inquired in a hoarse, groggy voice. Bulma smiled and offered her a drink of water, which the famished Saiyan gladly accepted. 

"Well, Vegeta brought you back here. You got pounded pretty bad.. What happened?" She asked, returning the empty glass to a small table. Ona snarled at her naivety. 

"VEGETA'S what happened!" She cried, then squirmed in pain at the sudden movement. Ona collapsed against her bed and sighed, rubbing her forehead. 

"Whoa, don't move. What do you mean?" Bulma inquired, lifting a small ice pack and placing it on her head. Ona squeezed her eyes in pain at the contact, but made no further sound.

"He came and pummeled me," she replied, her voice cracking at a mere whisper. The aqua-haired woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she sat down on a small stool just beside the bed. They were in Ona's guest room once more, but there were fewer IVs this time.

"What do you mean?!" Bulma cried, sitting back in her seat. Ona sighed.

"He beat the shit out of me, that's what. I have a headache, can you leave please?" She requested, turning on her side so Bulma was merely faced with her back. The blue-haired woman shook her head and stood up, leaving the room. She turned down the hall, and saw a wisp of black hair disappearing down the hall. Bulma snickered and walked into the kitchen, where Vegeta was now eating nonchalantly. Faker.

"What did you do to her?" She asked, descending down the stairs. Vegeta's head whipped up in surprise, then aimed back towards his food.

"What are you talking about, woman?" He responded gruffly, stuffing a piece of burnt toast into his mouth. Bulma snickered.

"Don't play stupid with me. One of the strongest fighters in the world doesn't leave the house one day on a rampage and get the crap beaten out of them," she said, sneering. Vegeta growled back.

"Shutup, woman." With that, he ditched whatever food he had left and stormed out the door. Bulma sat back and sighed, massaging her temples. She was beginning to realize sticking two powerful, arrogant Saiyans in one household was not done for a reason.

Vegeta immediately took off, powering his energy below him to rise high into the sky. He followed the city with his eyes, searching for a decent place to catch a meal. Why had Ona gone off like that? He didn't care for rationalities, barely pausing to consider the fact he had smashed her into the wall of the GR. Vegeta's blood boiled as he soared into downtown, spotting a nice cafe. He was fuming from the incidents at Capsule Corp., and the addition of Ona being horribly bedridden thanks to him was not adding to his sanity any. 

~*~

Ona paced, glancing at her watch and back. Second time, and he was late again. But, it was exactly a month, so any time during the day was "on time." Training had been completely unsuccessful, and she was almost looking forward to getting the shit beaten out of her. A good portion of the last month had dragged past, where she had left Capsule Corp. for the most part. She shuddered, thinking about the evil look she had received from Vegeta when she took off. It had been the middle of the night, and he was outside on the roof stargazing, as usual. 

"Where are you off to in such a damn hurry?" He asked snidely. Ona smirked back with equal enthusiasm.

"None of your business," she replied, powering up and hightailing it before he could even dream of catching up with her. 

Ona was lost in her thoughts as a large, metal mass appeared in the air above her. It descended, the thrusting engines kicking up enough dust to overt the concentrated Saiyan's attention. Her stomach churned, filling with butterflies at her upcoming fate. That sword in itself was enough, and at this point, she wasn't the bravest. Ona jumped back, allowing the ship room to land. It went against her Saiyan pride to refuse a fight, so she would just have to deal with the blow as it came.

The machine settled on the ground, sending up flocks of dust and sand as three legs landed lightly on the desert's cracked, barren surface. The glass window slid up, revealing a positively glowing, thickly tanned face. Trunks leaped from the vehicle, landing gracefully on one foot.

"Well, hello! I made it!" He said, seeming to be talking to himself for the latter part of his greeting. Ona merely raised an eyebrow and approached him, noticing his eye scanning her properly-clothed body with disappointment.

"This is all I could find," she said, anticipating his question before he had a chance to ask it. Trunks shrugged and grinned shyly, leaning against his capsule.

"Are you ready this time?" He asked, cocking a lavender eyebrow. Ona snickered nervously.

"Yeah.." She stood up, getting into a feeble fighting stance. Trunks did the same, and grinned. He lunged instantly, bombarding her with a series of lightning fast blows. Ona only managed to dodge a few before a massive punch connected with her shoulder. She swung sideways, the pure force disrupting her force of gravity. 

Trunks did a quick-footed, half-step backwards as she recovered, recomposing herself. He smirked and pulled off his jacket, tossing the purple-vest/sword combo onto the ground behind him. Ona raised an eyebrow as she leaned, her shoulder hanging unnaturally at her side. She reached over and dug her fingers into the joint, issuing a jerk. It was followed by a loud POP!, causing Trunks' eyes to widen in surprise. Ona snickered and raised her fists into a more confident stance, her bare feet gripping the cracked wedges of dirt beneath her. 

She launched a sudden attack, bringing her fist into Trunks' side. He leaped backwards, but too late; although she landed the blow, it didn't seem to cause him much consternation. Ona grimaced and reversed, regaining a good deal of distance between them. She put one hand in the air beside her as she focused her energy into it, her palm forming a small cup shape. Trunks stepped back up from his diminished position, watching with interest as her power began to rise significantly. A small breeze rippled the calm air, causing a defiant, wicked smirk to cross Ona's face as a lock of her opponent's purple hair blew into his face.

Wiping the distraction from his eye, Trunks realized how true this was when he saw a small ball of thick energy soaring towards him at an alarming rate. Her grin widened as the blast hit him head on, knocking the purple-haired boy into the ground at least twenty yards away. He got up instantly, of course, but depriving him of his foothold was enough for her. Ona stepped back, dropping her fighting stance and resting her arms at her sides. Trunks ran back, skidding to a halt in front of the over-confident, forest colored Saiyan. Her tail had freed itself from its resting spot about her petite waist, and was now waving lazily in the moderate breeze.

"What are you doing? This isn't over yet," Trunks demanded, his adrenaline barely getting going at this point. Ona raised one thick eyebrow and leaned back against a boulder.

"Of course it's over. You will most likely beat me, but I got a decent enough hit in that I can keep _some _dignity. That's important to a select few of us, you know," she responded sharply, burying her hands in her pockets. She wore casual pants, which looked like they belonged in a gi ensemble, excluding the convenient pockets and zippers. A light, breathable tank top hung from her lean, yet powerful frame. Ona smirked as Trunks issued her a shocked expression.

"What do you mean? You had something going on me," he added, attempting to rekindle her need to fight him. 

"No. I didn't get a chance to train. That was merely a lucky shot," Ona replied, tapping her fingers impatiently, her arms crossed. 

"What do you mean, you didn't get to train? I would think under my father's instruction, you'd be working your ass off every day of the week," Trunks retorted, smirking. She didn't appear amused.

"Something came up. I left Capsule Corp. a few weeks ago," Ona confided, referring to her outfit with one hand. "I managed to borrow this from the Sons." Trunks cocked one eyebrow.

"I see. Anything to do with Vegeta?" He pried, causing Ona to snort and turn, her arms crossed.

"Yeah, what of it? I _can_ take care of myself, ya know," she said, lowering her eyes. Trunks shifted uncomfortably and picked up his vest, slinging the sword over his shoulder.

"I'm sure you can. What was that attack you used? Knocked the wind outta me," he asked, changing the subject. Ona raised an eyebrow.

"It doesn't really have a name. Just 'the birdie.' My pa.. someone taught it to me," she responded, leaning against the huge rock she had adopted as her chair. 

"Ah.." Trunks tilted his head and peered at her, as if trying to place her face. It seemed oddly familiar, but had a hint of peculiarity. "Who are you, _exactly_?" He inquired, his face suddenly becoming domineering. Basically, he was insisting she answer truthfully and correctly, which she wasn't sure she could do. Ona snorted and tore her gaze from his, freeing herself from his officious expression.

"I don't know what you want me to say," she lied, digging her toe into the ground. Trunks smirked and leaned back, turning around to reach past the rock he was leaning against. He pushed the small, red button on the time machine's outer shell, which caused the whole thing to go up into a cloud of smoke. Trunks picked up the small capsule and grinned, setting it in his pocket. Ona watched with mild curiosity, and he soon turned back to face her.

"Who are your parents, then? That specific enough?" He questioned snidely, leaning with one hand tucked in his back pocket. "You're a pure Saiyan, I can tell that much. Half breeds don't show up in Saiya-jin space pods." Ona merely sighed and stared at the ground, which had suddenly become quite interesting. She'd already told too many people, one of which she was not on good terms with, the other she was not sure of. He really didn't have a reason for telling, and she had never gotten around to making him promise. Promise not to breathe a word of it, anyway. Maybe, if her luck ran well, he wouldn't be dimwitted enough to make her mad.

"That's extremely unimportant. The Gaijins are my parents.. Parents are those you've grown up with, correct?" Ona responded, grinning inwardly at her cleverness. Trunks merely sighed and shook his head.

"Not exactly. Vegeta's my father, but I didn't grow up with him," he confided. A weak, amber light had advanced onto the desert, bathing the taller man before her in a strange, rosy glow. His intense, lavender hair became inadvertently a deep red. Ona turned away and sighed. She had a secret of his that could mean the difference between his existence and naught; perhaps he had the same right? She greatly doubted it, for she had already committed her condemnation to two more than she should have. 

"You wouldn't even know my parents, so what's the point? They're Saiyan, that much should be obvious," Ona said, hoping her clever word maneuver could outmatch his talent at math. Trunks smirked.

"How old are you?" He asked mysteriously, getting up and walking closer. She shifted, feeling uncomfortable at his approach.

"Uh.. Fifteen summers," Ona replied, digging her fingers into the rock she leaned on. 

"Vegeta-sei was destroyed long before that. My father knew all the Saiyans who remained living, beside yourself.." Here Trunks paused, considering a small fact. If they didn't know her, perhaps they didn't know her parents either. _Oh well,_ he thought. _Hopefully she won't call my bluff. _"And all of them were unlucky enough to show up on Earth. My mother took the liberty of telling me all her past adventures," he informed her, snickering at the last. Ona merely responded with a snort.

"I see. If you're anything like that knucklehead Kakarot, you'll use the process of elimination," she suggested, realizing her error at the last second. She slapped herself mentally and sighed, leaning back. Trunks merely grinned and assumed a thoughtful posture, gazing up at the deep orange sky. The sun was craning to dip below the cliff-dotted horizon, the night ready to descend upon them.

Trunks opened his mouth to respond, but Ona quickly snapped a silencing finger up and turned.

"It's way too late. I have to go, _now_," she said harshly, glancing around with unease at the rising night. Trunks took a few glances around, then nodded in understanding. 

"One month?" 

"One month." And with that, she took off, leaving Trunks in a daze that followed her bright, white trail.

~*~

"Where. Have. You. Been?!" Ona couldn't quite decipher whether this was a brutally loud scolding or a question, so she merely glared in response. 

"Vegeta, calm down," came the voice of reason. Bulma pushed the prince out of her way, earning a shocked expression from both Saiyans. Somehow, she didn't get a retort from either of them.

"That's none of your damn business," Ona responded to Vegeta, crossing her arms and turning her head. He growled and stuck his nose out, turning his head as well. Bulma let out a defeated sigh and leaned against the wall, glaring at the two.

Ona had arrived at midnight, an action noticed in silence by Vegeta as he kept his nighttime vigil. She had slipped into the building, taking up residence in her guest room as if she had never left. She was loathe to return for this very reason, but she had lost all means of getting food, clothing, or even company besides her brief visit with Trunks. This constituted a very bored, lonely Saiyan, which tended to be a rather uncanny combination. But, of course, Ona's means of returning without a disturbance was shattered when Vegeta snatched her out of her room at six in the morning, and caused enough racket to bring everyone in the sleeping house outside. They stood in the hallway, where the early morning light was seeping across the walls, but the dim lamp-effect had driven Bulma to finally switch on the fluorescents. These seemed to bother Saiyans, but the strange light subdued them at the same time.

Vegeta fumed, establishing himself as such. _First, she left after making a horribly rude mistake, then came back when she couldn't stand up to me, then left again! When she couldn't be any more confusing and stupid, she returns, AGAIN!? This is getting horribly repetitive!_ Vegeta snarled to himself, glaring at the stone-faced Ona. She responded in a similar manner, crossing her arms and suddenly spinning on her heels. The teenager stomped down the stairs, Vegeta cocking an eyebrow as the glass door opened and slammed. Bulma watched him, then followed a similar, but slightly quieter trans.

"Ona?" She asked quietly, peering through the still early morning light. Bulma squinted against the fluorescent rising sun, peering around the edge of Capsule Corp.'s whitewashed outer wall. Leaning against it was a positively furious looking figure, arms crossed, black-green hair in a flurry. She had her eyes closed, her face plastered towards the horizon. Bulma was about to approach her before she heard a deep, quiet growl. Sitting at Ona's side was her enormous dog, its slit-like, coal black eyes cold and unforgiving. His ears were flat against his head, and his tail was pinned protectively around his mistress' closest leg. She had one hand resting on the large animal's furry head, from which a long, black mane hung. Tanjua was not one to mess around with, this right was obviously reserved to Ona and only Ona. The beast would even snarl if Vegeta came close while the San was around. Apparently, the creature was native to Ona's previous resident planet, but had become attached to her. Bulma shrugged and looked at the large, protective dog, not yet gaining the attention of his master.

"What do you want." Ona said, more than asked. She turned, opening one dark, onyx-emerald eye. Bulma stopped herself from jumping back in shock at the expression's intensity. 

"Don't mind Vegeta. But I am curious where you've been... No one holds a grudge here," she assured her, looking at the San for permission to come closer. Tanjua merely stood up and paced a few steps away, then collapsed in a heap beneath a tree. Bulma leaned against the building next to Ona, earning a heavy sigh.

"I don't care about Vegeta. I don't care what anyone else thinks about me, but if you must know," the Saiyan paused, tilting her head back and clunking her forehead against the wall. "I was trying to live on my own again. I know how Vegeta must feel, being pampered here. I wanted to leave, see the rest of this planet, try to survive on my own and try to assure myself I could." Ona turned away, looking back towards the horizon. Her eyes were especially shiny, possibly due to extra lubricant or the fact she was staring directly into the sun. She tore her gaze away in a futile attempt to rip her pathetic utterances from her memory. 

Bulma shook her head and turned, walking across the soft, dewy grass. She opened the double glass doors and wiped her feet in a professional manner on the throw rug, then slowly closed it behind her. She thought about Ona's words carefully, slightly wounded at the suggestion of the Saiyans being "pampered." The blue-haired woman began to meticulously cook breakfast, knowing full well that her herculean efforts would go unappreciated. She soon began to believe that Ona merely wanted to be alone, as Vegeta often did. Often? Always was more like it.

~*~

Ona would train in silence. She sat in the small, white-fenced yard, her eyes closed and her arms crossed. She had her legs folded indian-style, and her breathing was completely silent and controlled. It was already getting dark, and she had been meditating all day; her tail sat like a dead snake behind her, the cool evening air dissipating into a much more bitter, night brought breeze. She had almost fully abandoned her revealing robes, for the cloth had begun to rot. 

Ona had completely subdued her mind for over twelve hours. At least another two weeks had passed since she returned to Capsule Corp., and Vegeta had not bothered her since. She had almost begun to miss the day to day debates and battles, for the weakling Yamcha just was not a decent enough opponent. She avoided all relationships, involving her or others. Apparently, the blubbery blue haired woman and her equally annoying boyfriend were fighting. According to Vegeta, this was nothing new.

The teenager was suddenly pulled out of her day of meditation by a heavy, muscular hand on her shoulder. Looking up in shock, she saw the menacing face of the prince. Ona leapt to her feet, fists instantly up in a combative position to either side of her head. Vegeta merely scowled.

"Go inside. It's a full moon tonight," he said, his voice full of warning. Ona raised an eyebrow, her hands falling to either side of her.

__

The full moon? So? She thought, attempting to comprehend his words' underlying message. Vegeta gave her a sidelong glance, and chuckled warily.

"So I guess you don't know, then. Saiyans, well, with your tail, you transform. With the help of the full moon. Just get inside and I'll tell you later," he commanded, pointing to the back door. Ona merely stood up, and, feeling it in her best interests, went indoors. She was more curious than ever, but decided to wait until the still hostile prince followed suit.

Ona sat at the table, fingering a placemat as Bulma cooked some new foul-smelling concoction. It reeked of too much nutmeg and too little actual meat, but as long as it was food, Ona didn't mind one bit. She never had been one to be picky about food, despite the encouragement the Prince's harsh criticism invoked.

~*~

Late. What a surprise. Ona rolled her eyes.

__

This is the third time I've gone over this. The same familiar sound of the time machine drifted to her ears, drawing her attention away from the ground and into the air. It almost made her feel good, the routine, seeing one of the few who knew her. She sighed and shook off the thought, glancing back at the "Capsule Corp." logo. _Man, what a fit Vegeta would have if he found out about him and Bulma.. _Ona laughed to herself as the vehicle's three legs landed squarely on the already worn-out desert surface.

"Hello again!" Trunks said cheerily, his voice half drowned by the ship's glass dome closing. Ona merely nodded in acknowledgement and sighed, sitting back against her rock. The purple-haired boy glanced at her sideways, adjusting his jacket as he approached her. Tanjua had decided against coming on this trip, on the reason that there were just "too many rabbits on the premises to sleep tonight." 

"What crawled down your pants and died?" He asked, sneering. Ona growled in retort and stood up, crossing her arms. 

"Your father is an asshole." Suddenly, Trunks burst out laughing, causing a mystified expression to cross Ona's face. "What's so funny?!" She demanded, her black-emerald eyes daring him to chuckle further.

"It took you this long to figure it out?" Trunks snorted again, hiding his laughter with one hand. Ona growled, turning on her heel and looking up. Yet again, the sun was low in the sky, and night was already descending. "What did he do?"

"Well.. nothing, except tell me the.. legend of the Oozarus," she replied, watching the half moon become more pronounced in the darkening sky. Trunks raised an eyebrow, earning an irritated grunt from the female Saiyan.

"Nevermind. Anyhow, just how long do we have until these "androids" appear?" Ona asked, swiftly changing the subject. Trunks sighed solemnly. 

"Two years and nine months exactly. Are you going to fight them too?" He replied. Ona snorted, then shrugged her shoulders. Trunks grinned, remembering the words of advice from his mother; "no response from a Saiyan is better than a bad one." He got up and set down his sword and vest, recapsulating his time machine in a cloud of smoke.

For him, each of these meetings were sequential; the time machine required a lot of energy to travel, so he had to do it all at once. He was already noticing the changes in Ona's appearance and demeanor, in both positive and negative ways.

She had come to accept the people on Earth, but wasn't about to join them. Trunks' mother had been very curious about what all this rapid travel business was about, and eventually weaseled the fact he was going to visit a girl out of him. It hadn't totally shocked her, until the lavender-haired teenager had told her that Ona was a Saiyan, she was being trained by Vegeta, and wouldn't tell a soul who she really was. This had shocked Bulma half out of her mind, for she had no recollection of anyone by the name of Ona. Nor any Saiyans beside Vegeta and Goku. Or any of it, for that matter.

The Sun had completely sunk behind the tall, jagged cliffs. Ona sat on the ground, leaning against her favorite rock and gazing absent-mindedly at the sparkly stars above. 

"They are each giant suns, but are so far away they only glitter like lost children," she said quietly. Trunks sat down close by, facing her but staring off into space as well. Ona snorted quietly and tucked her head, shifting her gaze to the sun beaten ground. "She was wise."

Ona regretted the statement as soon as she said it. Instantly, Trunks' curiosity was perked, and he turned to her.

"Who was wise?"

"No one!" She cried, jumping to her feet. The change had occurred so quickly, it took the man a few seconds to comprehend. 

__

She's angry, he finally realized. "Okay. Forget I asked.." Suddenly, in the middle of his apology, Trunks' watch began to beep maniacally. He sighed, glancing at the green display screen.

"Gotta run," he announced, then glanced up at her furious expression. "One month..?" Ona merely snorted in acknowledgement and powered up, trotting a few light steps before pushing off into the sky. Trunks followed her with his eyes until her slight form disappeared in the blackness of the night, and he sighed deeply. Why did the power cell have to give out NOW?!?!

~*~

Ona stared up at the ceiling, her hands tucked behind her head for extra support. Her feather pillow had flattened out the night before from one dream or another, and tonight, the added tension of screaming in the background didn't help one bit. She rolled over, groaning and pulling the sheets over her head in an attempt to block out the argument occurring only a few rooms away.

The Saiyan jerked up at the sound of a soft knock at her door. This was the last straw. She leaped up, chucking her flat feather down pillow into the wall so hard it actually left a dent. Her window was wide open, letting the cool evening air into her room, also known as the suffocating box she was condemned to. Ona growled, eyeing the door as she slowly opened it. The sounds of arguing intensified, Bulma's high pitched voice resonating off the hallway's walls. 

In the doorway stood a stocky, very annoyed looking Saiyan. He had his arms crossed, and his usually perfect, upright hair was in a tuss. He was dressed in large boxers which were obviously not his, wearing no shirt over his refined, scar-covered chest. Ona sighed and leaned against the wall.

"What do you want?" She asked, glaring at him. Vegeta snorted and shifted his gaze to the source of their disturbance.

"They're keeping me up, and..." he paused, then turned back to her, his glare intensifying. "I thought you might want to get some rage out with me." Ona snickered and nodded, pulling up her flannel pajama bottoms and readjusting her revealing white tank top. Vegeta merely rolled his eyes and padded down the hallway, disappearing around the corner at the bottom. Ona chased after him, tumbling headfirst down the stairs, where she dusted off and hurtled out the back door.

~*~

**__**

Author's Note: Man, that was hella hard to finish. I hope you all appreciate it, I may have to extend the due dates.. *sigh* This is getting more and more difficult, but hopefully the story will spice up! I know, this was totally _boring, I agree. _

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Dedications: Vegeta's Gyal - As always. :) Need I say more?

Mizu Megami - Man, its good to know I'm not TOTALLY evil.. Hehe, yeah, I saw that later, but you know me.. To darn lazy to fix it ;P

Kioko - LOL! Man, I know how that goes. I didn't think it was THAT riveting, but thank you! Trust me, it isn't that weird.. I almost got in bed with Vegeta once! XD

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Schedule: Next chapter due Tuesday, May 21.

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Stuff to Check Out: Have an awesome fic? Want it posted? Check out the archives at www.freewebz.com/eriedragon/, and email me (or IM me) with your hosting request!

~Majin Niña~


	6. Summer Nights

**__**

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Dragon Ball Z or any of its characters. I make no capital as a result of this Fanfiction, it is purely for entertainment. All original plots and characters © ErieDragon 2002.

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Author's Note: Oh man.. I am so sorry about how late this is. The end of school really stressed me out, and I had writer's block on this for what seemed like ever, then I left on vacation for two weeks. It should be smooth sailing now.. Once I got back into the groove, I finished this chapter like nothin else. I know it isn't as long as the others, but it ended nicely so yeah.. At least I'm getting out of the kop rut I had been in. Reviews are important, obviously, so I thank everyone who's been so awesome so far. Anyways, here we go!

Chapter 5

Summer Nights

~*~

Ona gazed out the window. Her eyes were glassy, her expression distant as her face rested upon her two palms. 

__

Out there is the universe. She blinked once. _Hundreds of millions of stars. Billions of planets. _She let out a deep sigh at the sheer expanses, which constituted what humans called "space." _And billions of peoples, races. _Ona's eyes were drawn from her fixation on the stars to the moon, which glimmered an eerie pale silver. _An infinity of individuals._ Her heart skipped a beat at this realization, the pure thought of every single being in the universe too overwhelming for even the greatest of mathematicians. The solar system, the galaxy. This is how these Earthlings saw the universe, never knowing the true greatness of the anomaly itself. Probably thousands of galaxies, all watched over. Protected, even. 

These thoughts were so profound to her, the Saiyan felt herself curl up closer to the window sill which she had adopted for her midnight awakenings. Although she knew this was where she was intended to be, Ona still woke up almost every night with cold sweats. She never dreamt, and she never dazed. Only at night, when she would prop her elbows against the small windowsill, overlooking Capsule Corp.'s rich, green lawns and stout, emerald saplings. Tanjua had always opted to sleep outdoors, and his slumbering form could be seen beneath the canopy of a matured oak tree some ways off. Ona smiled to herself; the San had left his only life on Gaija to be with her here, and now had left his mistress to her training. Although Tanjua had not appreciated this change in attitude and partnership, he had become accustomed to it and now spent his time mildly helping Bulma and Mrs. Briefs in their daily routines. The massive dog had a talent in hanging clothing, and didn't mind strapping wet sponges to his feet and parading around the kitchen.

Ona, on the other hand, had taken a different approach to life on Earth. She refrained from reminding herself that she was actually an Earthling, arguing that the title was merely in birth, not in heart and body. There was another one on this desolate rock who knew how it felt to be the foreigner, but he was one of the most difficult to get along with. Although Ona, having the rare insight of being a pure Saiyan and knowing it, trained and worked with Vegeta on a regular basis. Though sometimes, their small differences set them apart. 

~*~

"One. Two. One. Two," Ona would send out one powerful blow, then another. Her body moved with perfect fluidity, sending a shock through the gravity room with each heavy step. Vegeta was following a similar routine on the other side of the main simulator, often jerking his eyes when her slight form would zip at an impossible speed from one end of the room to the other. 

Suddenly, the video holo on the wall sprouted up, revealing a wild-eyed, grinning Bulma. Ona and Vegeta raised an eyebrow in unison, plastering their glares onto the screen and firmly setting their hands upon their hips. Bulma burst out laughing, wracked with glee and excitement.

"Are you sure she hasn't been drinking.. what's that stuff called.. alcohol?" Ona whispered, giving Vegeta a sidelong glance. He chuckled before shrugging. 

"Oh shutup, I can hear you. Anyways, big news! In the lab, now!" And the screen clicked off. Each observing Saiyan cocked one eyebrow, glancing at each other and then the door of the GR. 

Dr. Briefs exited the lab, dragging his palm across his brow in a vain attempt to wipe the sweat from it. He barely glanced at Ona or Vegeta as they crept down the hallway, peering nervously into the main entrance. Bulma was flitting about the room, tapping numbers into a computer console and then switching. She would disappear momentarily into the small off-room, which, if Ona remembered correctly, held her pod. They had brought it there with her help, and the Saiyan could only guess as to what the blue-haired busybody was up to.

The various shelves, desks, and counters scattered about the room were piled high with gadgets, gizmos, and papers. Folders were thrown about the floors, and various bits of circuitry sparked and fizzed all about them. It seemed like some sort of mad scientist's laboratory, which Ona had become familiar with by watching horror movies on cable. 

"Ah! There you are!" Bulma announced, noticing them at last. Vegeta crossed his arms, content with staying outside the obscene mess. Ona glanced around, acknowledging Bulma briefly. She snorted but continued towards them, motioning with her hand to the room.

"Yeah, yeah, it's a wreck, but it's worth it! I have something I think you'd like to see, Ona," the blue-haired woman informed her, grinning ear-to-ear. The teenager raised one skeptical eyebrow, stepping over various dismantled mechanisms. Bulma ushered her excitedly into the off room, which was merely an open doorway between the nearest wall and a panel of glass. Ona glanced around in silent awe, stunned at the vast amounts of knowledge the room must hold.

The walls were sterile white, covered in masses of cluttered shelves and boxes. The mess receded as the room spiraled inwards, until there was a spotless expanse surrounding Ona's pod. It was completely disassembled, but the parts were stacked in order, and labeled, all about the platform. 

"What is it you wanted to show me?" The teenager demanded, putting her hands on her hips and glaring as Bulma rifled through papers. She merely held up her index finger, signaling Ona to wait a moment. The forest haired girl sighed, glancing at her dismantled machine.

"This." Bulma held up a thick pad of paper, which was ripped and torn. The pages were covered in notes and drawings, of which the older woman referred to as she picked through the ship's devices. She beckoned Ona to come closer, who reluctantly complied. Suddenly, Bulma flicked a switch, and the small screen came to life. It scrolled in numbers, which Ona recognized instantly.

"I've managed to decode most of it from information out of the scouter. It was a long, hard process, but there's one more thing I need you to crack. It's the barrier screen, and it's written in a language I don't know.. Which is surprising, but even the scouter didn't recognize it." Bulma began to press buttons, drawing a wide-eyed expression from Ona. The blue-haired woman smiled smugly to herself as the screen came up, the language scrawled and completely illegible. The teenager leaned over, taking a closer look.

"That isn't writing. It's deformed code, and it's asking for a connection," Ona informed her, the girl's voice somewhat giddy. Bulma mused over the fact there was yet another woman in the household who found technology as intriguing as she did. Suddenly, the two looked up as a loud crash echoed in the main room.

"Don't EVEN say ANYTHING!" Vegeta hollered before Ona had a chance to open her mouth. The two women instantly burst into laughter, causing Vegeta to snarl angrily and storm out the laboratory door. 

"What do you mean by a connection?" Bulma asked after recovering. Ona took the small monitor from her, which was connected to a vast multitude of wires. The parts had been scattered all about, but it seemed their wire connections had not been severed. 

__

"Ona. Ona? Are you listening?" Ona glanced up at her mother, who was now glaring at her with both hands on her hips. 

"Yes, mama," the four-year-old responded, putting down whatever she had been fiddling with. Her green-haired mother nodded, and sat down beside her daughter.

"Now, if you ever miss me, just put these on," Khune instructed, taking a pair of padded wires from the pod she had been building. Ona raised a small, forest-colored eyebrow, but did as she was told. Her mother placed a pad on either of the small girl's temples, earning a confused expression.

"What do you mean by 'miss you,' mommy?" Ona asked, shuffling uncomfortably under the dual wires attached to her. 

"If you're ever without me, just put these on and you can see me again!" Khune replied, ruffling her daughter's hair as she turned on the pod. 

"I'll never be without you, right? You're never going to leave me, are you?" The little girl's green haired mother turned to her, a weary expression suddenly taking over.

"No.. I won't." Khune watched Ona for a moment, taking in her big, almost black eyes. She had a strange feeling she would not keep her promise. "Just press this button," she said at length, pointing to a little red button on the portable monitor. 

"Ona? What do you mean by a connection? ... Ona! Are you there?" Bulma's obnoxious voice rang in her head, bringing her out of her trance. She shook off the memory, glaring at the other woman.

"Like this," Ona said, and snatched the monitor and wires, of which she finally located two pads. "I directly transferred this from my old pod to this one. I didn't remember how to get into it until now." Bulma raised an eyebrow, watching as the teenager placed one pad on either side of her head. They seemed to be magnetized towards her temples, somehow, for they did not fall despite the absence of any sort of support. 

"Give me the screen," Ona ordered, motioning towards the monitor in Bulma's hand. The older woman complied, passing it to the teenage girl, who had taken a seat on the floor beside her pod. She examined the strange designs on the screen before pressing the small, red button.

Instantly, the LCD came to life. A pretty, green-haired woman appeared, opening large, emerald eyes. Bulma jumped, taking a step back at the remarkable resemblance between the girl in front of her and the face on the screen. 

"M-m-m-mother?!" Ona cried, holding the screen closer to her face. The woman on the monitor didn't seem to notice. She merely closed her eyes, and suddenly Ona's expression became stricken. 

__

'My daughter... I always knew the day would come, the day we would be separated. Do not be afraid if you are alone.'

"Oh mother.. Where are you?" She said, her voice trembling. Bulma was saying something, but she was too distracted. Her mouth made no sounds as it moved, so the teenager's eyes were drawn back to the screen. 

__

'You are a Saiyan. You.. What are you doing?'

A pause. Ona raised an eyebrow, watching the screen intently as her mother fought with someone off screen. Bulma peered over her shoulder. Ona knew the older woman couldn't hear them talking, but the visual was enough. Suddenly, there was commotion and a heap of black hair pushed its way onscreen. I raised an eyebrow, when my father's face suddenly pointed at me. I almost fell over in shock.

__

'Just thought I'd make an appearance, on the video Khune said she WASN'T making..' He glares off screen, which is followed by a fit of laughter. Ona let out a small chuckle as Radditz continued.

__

'You are my daughter, always keep that in mind. It means you are powerful, brave, strong..' Suddenly, he was interrupted once more by a green-haired woman shoving him out of the way.

__

'Powerful, brave, strong my ass! Uh oh.. Damn you! The video time's run out-' and she was cut off by the screen going blank. 

"What happened?" Ona asked, removing the pads from her temples. Bulma was still staring at her in wonder, when a shake on the shoulder brought her back to reality. 

"The power's still fine.. It looks like the recording ended there," the blue-haired women amended, glancing at the monitor Ona gave to her.

"My parents..." She whispered, putting a hand over her cheek and mouth. 

"That was certainly an interesting display," a brash, raspy voice commented. Ona turned, seeing Vegeta a few yards away. He was half grimacing, half smirking. Ona shook her head, to stunned for Vegeta's harsh words to ruin her moment. She stood up, giving Bulma an almost grateful nod, and proceeded to pass Vegeta with a hardly discernable "Prince.." He grinned inwardly and proceeded to enter the lab, speaking in brash tones with the blue-haired woman. They really did enjoy fighting.

~*~

"What was that?!" Vegeta hollered, holding his arm. It was seared, a thick black streak having blazed across his forelimb. Ona growled.

"It was nothing. You were just careless," she informed him, causing the older Saiyan's eyes to light up with onyx fire. His mouth squeezed shut in anger, but he refrained from retorting. She still had not forgiven him for all their previous incidents, and lashing out at her would not improve the situation. She had silently come under his training once again, but he focused his attentions on himself. Ona didn't mind, for less attention the better.

Vegeta snorted and jumped back, aiming another blast at the olive-eyed teenager. She reminded him more and more of her mother every day, though he had only seen her briefly, and not on positive terms. The video, on the other hand, revived his memory, along with his pure annoyance at being rejected. 

Ona clutched her tail tightly to her waist, watching Vegeta's speculative expression. She had watched the recording over and over again, drawing slight irritation from Bulma and her father. They attempted to study the spaceship day by day, but were thrown out by a concentrating Ona. 

Her parents looked so different now that she was older... Her father was always imposing, but could be mildly tender at times. Now he reminded her terribly of Vegeta. Ona turned, focusing her attention on the task at hand. Suddenly, her thought process was interrupted by yelling outside the GR.

__

How can sound penetrate this_?! _She wondered, glancing out the small round window. Vegeta looked equally mystified.

"It's that woman and her.. what was it? Boyfriend? They're arguing again," Ona growled, taking her gaze away from the portal. Her opponent snickered, crossing his arms and assuming an authoritative position. 

"They shouldn't be," Vegeta responded, tilting his nose into the air with unmatched arrogance. Ona raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? You'd rather have her arguing with _you_?" She asked, sneering. Vegeta's eyes widened, and he glared at her menacingly. Suddenly, his gaze softened.

"What of it?" Ona did a double take, then burst out laughing. Vegeta snorted and turned off the gravity, stepping outside while the teenager continued to go on in hysterics.

Eventually, after going into another bout of laughter when she heard Vegeta shooing Yamcha off the property and then diving into a heated verbal spar with Bulma, Ona stood up. Slightly calmer, she glanced at the small calendar she'd convinced the Prince to let her hang in the GR. 

__

Oh my kami! I'm late! She thought, noticing the fat red circle around the current day. It had a "TR" sound written on it, for she was not fluent in writing the language and had asked Bulma how to spell "Trunks." She suggested writing the sound for the first syllable might be easier. 

The sun was already sinking low, and he would probably be there already. Ona preferred to leave when Vegeta wasn't within range, because he had a tendency to be stressfully curious of her whereabouts. So rather than deal with his endless stream, she opened the door and blasted straight off towards her destination, which was followed by a cry of "HEY!" as Bulma was drenched in dust.

~*~

__

Figures, Ona growled, watching the sky. Night had descended, but she was no longer afraid. Bulma had told her all about Piccolo and Gohan's adventures, which included the destruction of the moon. This was a relief and a blunder at the same time, for she had wished since Vegeta told her the legend to become all that she could be. An Oozaru.

Just as the last rays of sun began to slip behind the distant cliffs, the teenager heard a loud whirring sound. Ona barely had to glance upward in order to recognize the ship, which descended on three outstretched legs. She hopped out of the way, stopping to lean against a big boulder as the time machine settled, clouds of dust floating into the air. 

Vegeta had been surprised when Ona had so eagerly trained. She did it only for herself, to build her own strength, while her mentor did the same, occasionally snapping at her to change a position or to a hundred more pushups. She didn't mind at all, as long as she grew stronger. Both Saiyans had a similar drive; to beat someone. Vegeta was always working towards ascending, to becoming a "Super Saiyan," but Ona only worked to occupy her time and be a match for whatever bizarre creatures - or in her current case, machines - she encountered on the world she was still new to. But, at least she wasn't alone in this, although she hadn't forgiven Vegeta and probably never would. This too had decreased, and she could still work around his intense schedule. Bulma was kind enough to keep her on her toes and inform her if her mentor was doing anything without her due to her need of extra sleep.

Ona wanted to defeat Trunks, to show him she could.

As the smoke cleared, Ona watched with interest as the glass dome of the time machine opened, letting out a shrill, mechanical squeal. She hopped back in surprise, which only doubled when the tall, purple-haired man slid from his operating seat and landed on one foot, bearing complete ease. Now that the night was dominant, his features should have been fainter, but his utterly Vegeta-like face stuck out more than ever in the dim starlight. Ona tipped on her heel, almost falling over, but immediately straightened herself out when he shot her one cocked eyebrow.

"Well, hello to you too," Trunks commended, letting a grin spring to his face. The now black-haired girl in front of him smirked back, putting her hands on her hips and gazing at him haughtily. 

"You're late. How can I fight you in the dark?" Ona scolded, a snarl mixing into her words intent on badgering him. Trunks merely smiled intuitively and waved a hand.

"All the better. Without sight, your other senses heighten," he replied calmly, taking off his sword and jacket. She cocked an eyebrow, still unsure why he even bothered bringing the extra weight if he wasn't going to use it. Maybe it was just for you-never-know-what's-gonna-happen's sake.

The instant Ona took her stance, Trunks grinned. "So, you've been training with my father, have you?" The female Saiyan's brow furrowed.

"How do you.. I mean, why do you say that?" Her opposition snickered, taking a prepared pose himself. He merely shrugged it off and motioned for her to begin. Ona let out a sigh and took a few steps back, maintaining a passive expression on her face.

The sky began to darken further from the navy blue it had been, fading into midnight and finally onyx black. The stars shimmered like small gems, flickering in uneven bursts of golden light. Most were yellow, many of them most likely surrounded by their own planets, residing in their own solar systems, and harboring their own inhabitants. Others were quite large and red, letting of bright light to signal their size and ferocity. Others were slightly blue or green, but remained small and flaccid. For a moment, Ona paused to examine a bright azure star before shifting her attention back. Any moment of distraction could be fatal, or at least dangerous, as Vegeta had so willingly demonstrated for her.

Trunks noticed her momentary change in attention, but decided not to prey on it. Her attitude reminded him so much of the two hours he had seen of his father, he recognized her stance easily. Ona swished her tail impatiently, wrapping it instantly around her waist when Trunks made a slight movement. He noticed her awareness of her surroundings, taking in the light, the stars, the desert, and finally himself. Her resemblance was uncanny.. So familiar. Yet her eyes were so deep, bottomless, as if she'd seen the universe a million times over. Ona was a Saiyan, pure in heart and blood. But she was spared a great deal of Vegeta's arrogance, maintaining a quieter yet imposing aura. 

Trunks grinned as she suddenly lunged at him, almost catching him off guard. He had noticed her tiny rise in power just before she took off, giving her away instantly. His arm leapt out, blocking her, but also sending her flying backwards from the impact her sheer momentum had created. 

Ona got up, wiping dirt from her head, back and rump as she recovered from nosediving backwards into the sand. She grinned nastily, earning herself a confused expression from her opponent. 

"Baaa.... Kuuuu... DAN!" She cried, a beam of energy leaping from her suddenly outstretched palm. Trunks' eyes widened, when a trigger went off in his head and he jumped out of the way. Ona growled, snapping her fingers at the miss. Apparently the element of surprise was ineffectual against a being who had created fighting as his sixth sense.

They circled one another slowly, when Ona jumped at him suddenly, making the taller man leap back at the unexpected movement. She burst out laughing, stepping back to size him up. 

Trunks' eyes were wide, still confused at his opponent's intentions. She was standing against a rock, gazing at him intently. 

Suddenly, something enormous impacted the side of his skull. Trunks stumbled back in shock, fingering the blood trickling from his now pouting lip. His eyes darted back and forth, wide and alarmed. Ona was nowhere in sight, and even her energy was undetectable. She was invisible in the dark, but her movement became apparent when another blow threw him backwards.

Trunks' arms trembled as he placed his palms on the ground, trying in earnest to support his body as he stood up. He crouched, holding up his fists on either side of his head, eyes darting wildly through the dark. Even the weak starlight didn't touch the being he suddenly felt stirring all around him. 

"Where are you?!" He cried, the hair on the back of his neck standing out straight. His opponent's energy had disappeared completely, reappearing briefly but weakly in every place imaginable. 

"Where are you?!" Her voice came back, full of mock. This wasn't right. Ona had advanced too much in so short a time for Trunks' taste.

Another jawbreaking punch nailed him in the ribs, knocking the air straight out of him. His knees merely shivered for a moment as he leaned over, hugging his arms to his sides. He had no pain; his air was completely gone, and he could feel the shuddering of his bones beneath his grip. 

Trunks collapsed onto his knees, eyes darting around wildly. _Where is she?! Left! No.. wait! She's to the right! She's running towards me! _He growled, struggling to stiffen his feet beneath him. _What the... Now she's behind me, and in front.. _He rose slowly, glancing around. An evil grin snuck onto his face, drawing Ona to stop in front of him, watching quizzically.

"Enjoying yourself?" Trunks asked, smirking widely. The teenage girl's eyes widened, her eyebrows shooting up right along with her opponent's hair, which glowed in the darkness. 

The familiar, comforting power sprung to his bones, his muscles, his flesh. His mane stood on end, a vibrant golden aura surrounding him like a shield, the very existence a tribute to his strength and heritage. Ona's eyes widened and she took a step back, watching with a snarl on her lips as Trunks watched, a nasty smirk dominating his face.

He expected the words, "that's cheating" to come out of her mouth at any moment, but the pure Saiyan only watched him. Soon whatever light that had remained glimpsing over the tips of the distant cliffs disappeared, leaving them in utter blackness despite the fervent glow of stars overhead. 

Trunks took an automatic step back as Ona began to move once more, but this time she was not masked from his new super senses. A punch aimed right at his face flew through the air, his eyes instantly shifting, his hand flying up.

Ona struggled, her wrist caught in a grip of steel. Her opponent's golden aura spread, enveloping her with contact. It burned on her skin at first, so hot it stung as if it were freezing ice. She writhed against her hold, baring her teeth as her tail lashed, the hairs standing on end. The searing pain suddenly ceased, the aura becoming a warm touch against her arms, a look of confusion crossing his face. 

Trunks slowly let go of her arm, the woman's eyes squeezed in pain distracting him. The instant he gave way, Ona jerked back, holding her hand protectively. Fire sprung to her deep irises, only visible by the golden light he gave off. Her body was bathed in amber, her forest hair lit up in a bright lime. 

He took a step back, his aura fading lightly around him to become a soft glow. Ona slowly began to move in front of him and his eyes shifted, the two circling like lions preparing for battle. Trunks flared his energy, causing his female opponent to jump. When he did no more on the offensive, she let out a low growl. He was mocking her for her earlier actions. 

Suddenly, Ona stopped. She unfurled her tail, crossing her arms and lowering her eyelashes. This particular movement was not noticed by her opponent in the dim light.

"You're powerful. I'll train harder for next time," she said quietly, raising her gaze to his. It was piercing, almost making Trunks step back. He grinned and nodded, suddenly relaxing. 

"A month then?"

"A month." The feisty Saiyan turned on her heel, wrapping her tail around her waist and launching into the sky. Trunks grinned, returning to normal and finding his way to the time machine in the darkness.

~*~

"Where have you been?" Ona jumped, turning to the familiar voice. Vegeta was sitting on the roof, staring off into the distance. He sat with his knees bent in front, arms crossed and sitting on the caps. His gaze didn't flicker as Ona floated down the roof, heading towards her room as she had intended.

"I asked you a question."

"None of your damn business." Vegeta snickered, finally turning to her. She stopped, standing on one foot at the edge of the eave. 

"Didn't we already go over this? If you come in at midnight, it is my business." 

"It's not like I'm disturbing you," Ona replied, her voice full of mock at the should-be respectful utterance. She did have a point, and Vegeta snarled. 

"Well.. You'll.. um.. Wake the woman," he said, regretting the words the instant they came out. Ona laughed heartily, stopping mid-chortle to shoot him an icy glare. Without retort, she slid off the roof and opened her window, closing it with a loud THUD.

Vegeta growled, going back to his stargazing without thinking about it further.

Ona stumbled into her room, her foot catching on a pillow. She must have tossed it from her bed the night before in her sleep. She snorted, whipping it away with her tail. 

~*~

"You're home late," Bulma noted, glancing at her son from the corner of her eye. Trunks grinned guiltily, putting one hand on the back of his head in a way that reminded Bulma of Goku. 

"Umm.. Yeah. I was just out.. Strategizing," he replied. His mother snickered at the obvious lie.

"Who's the girl?" Trunks spun.

"What?! I mean.. what girl?" Bulma laughed out loud and turned, raising an eyebrow.

"I know. Who is she?" Trunks shifted uncomfortably, sitting down in the chair across from his mother. The shelter wasn't much, but it kept them from being discovered by the androids. Whatever it took to keep her safe.

"In our time.. Were Vegeta and Goku the only pure Saiyans?" The lavender haired boy asked, propping his chin in his palms, heeling his elbows on the small table. Bulma raised one quizzical eyebrow.

"Of course. Why?" Trunks closed his eyes, knitting his brow in a strikingly familiar way. 

"A Saiyan showed up when I landed and defeated Frieza. Apparently, no one else knew her either." He rose his glance to his mother's, which was staring ahead in partial shock.

"Another Saiyan? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. He looks really familiar, too. Her name is Ona... She won't tell me anything about herself except that she grew up with some aliens on a definitely not Vegeta-sei planet," Trunks informed his mother, keeping his eyes on her. 

"A Saiyan girl, eh? Wow.." Bulma trailed off, tapping her chin prospectively. "Never have I met any other pure Saiyans besides Vegeta and Goku, nor female Saiyans for that matter.. Or anyone named Ona." Trunks sat back, looking mystified.

"And she's powerful. Dad is.. I mean, Vegeta is training her." Bulma raised an eyebrow, then went back to sipping her coffee.

"Just keep your head clear for the fight and don't use up too much of the machine's power." Trunks nodded and got up, deciding to wait until the next morning to go back.

~*~

"Alright Vegeta, I'm tired of waiting. I'm going to get some lunch, I'll be back in a few minutes," Ona said at last, growling as she got up off the floor and headed down the ramp of the GR. The older man only ignored her, continuing his wild kicks and punches into the air. 

Mistress? A smile crossed her face as a furry nose nuzzled her hand. 

"I'm just going in to grab some lunch. What would you like? I can make a tuna sandwich or something. Knowing Bulma, she'd screw even that up!" Ona laughed, followed by a snort from the open glass door to the kitchen. Tanjua burst out in wolf laughter, scattering cough-like barks. 

Once seated at the table, Bulma seemed to have forgotten the earlier insult and was fixing vast amounts of sandwiches for Ona and her San. 

"How's the training going?" The blue haired hostess asked, attempting conversation. Ona raised an eyebrow, shoving the first available sandwich in her mouth.

"However well training with Vegeta can go," Ona replied, not a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Bulma rolled her eyes as she gave a plate of tuna to Tanjua.

Why don't I get a sandwich?

"I think he wants a sandwich too," Ona more commanded than implied. A wide grin dominated the animal's face when a plate of the desired foods were placed on the floor in front of him.

"Is Vegeta going to come in for lunch anytime soon?" Bulma asked, sitting down at the table while watching her two guests stuff themselves.

"I doubt it. He's really involved," Ona replied between enormous bites. The blue haired woman scrunched her lips, glancing at another jar of tuna thoughtfully. 

Within a few minutes, Bulma was carrying a huge trayful of sandwiches out the door and towards the GR. Ona watched in disinterest before turning back to the comics, which she had discovered while rifling through what the humans called a "newspaper." What she found amusing about it was that it was ninety percent ads and useless culture information than "news." 

Vegeta was doing pushups on one or two fingers when the gravity suddenly turned off. Getting up, he toweled himself off in annoyance as the door opened.

"What in hell are you doing here?!" He shouted, deeply angered at being distracted from his work by the woman. 

"Thought you might like some lunch," Bulma replied, ignoring his loud hostility towards her interruption. She set them down on the gravity machine, wiping her hands together. From the corner of her eye, she saw Vegeta glancing at the sandwiches hungrily, but knew his pride probably wouldn't allow him to touch them while she was around. 

Without a thankyou, Bulma left the GR and waited outside. Loud gorging sounds could be heard and she laughed to herself. Peeking in through the portal window, she saw the plate spin to a halt, completely empty. He had probably wandered off into the closet to clean off. 

Sneaking in quietly, she picked up the plate. Feeling a bit curious, Bulma tiptoed towards the closet, unsure of her intentions. She opened the door a tad, when suddenly a hand shot out, grabbing her by the neck.

Ona glanced up, hearing a loud, familiar shriek from the gravity room. Not knowing what to do, she jumped to her feet and ran out to see what was the matter. The door was open and no simulations were running..

Bulma was lying on the floor, supporting herself with her palms, backing up like a crab from a stuttering Vegeta. His shorts were just barely unbuttoned, and he was staring at his hand in shock. 

"I.. I thought it.. Oh hell! What the fuck were you doing, woman?!" He suddenly shrieked, glaring at Bulma.

"I was just.. getting the.. Tray!" She cried back, her eyes wild and scared. Ona stepped in, shooting icy stares at both of them.

"What's going on?!" She hollered, silencing both of them.

"He.. He tried to kill me!" Bulma yelled, finally getting to her feet, though still a bit shaky. She pointed accusingly at Vegeta, who was snarling back.

"I thought it was.. Why the hell am I explaining myself?! She shouldn't have been poking around!" He roared.

"GET OUT!" Ona jumped back, staring in shock at the blue haired woman. She was pointing out, eyes fixed on Vegeta. 

"What..?" The female Saiyan muttered, watching the scene, unsure what to do.

"Vegeta. Get. OUT!" Bulma screamed. She grabbed his towel and threw it at him, along with a shirt that had been hanging from the wall. Ona shook her head and walked out, not wanting to witness the scene. 

__

What was he thinking?! She snarled, ready to pound his head in. Just as this thought entered her mind, she saw a very angry looking Vegeta stalk by, not even glancing at her as he took off into the air. _Stupid woman too!!_ Ona walked over to the GR, staring inside, expecting to see a still growling Bulma. Instead, the blue haired princess was on her knees, sobbing.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

~*~

**__**

Author's Note: Okay, sorry I haven't been updating anything, just adding new stories.. I will update Grease as soon as I buy the movie. I had rented it, but that only lasts five days.. Grrr.. I don't know about anything else though. We'll see how my summer of inspiration goes.

**__**

Dedications: Vegeta's Gyal - Thank you so much for everything; keeping me going, and even inspiring me with some of the bizarre things we've said about Vegeta's level of sexiness.. *lol* 

Mizu Megami - Of course, your reviews always fuel me on ;) I hope this isn't too bad, I know the timing is way off :P

Kioko - Yes, thank you so much for all your reviews! This is for you :D

And thanks to Talec18415 and Chibiquatre, as well as anyone else who reviewed! 

****

Stuff to Check Out: Just my other fics! For Pokemon lovers (or anyone, the Pokemon theme just adds. Trust me) read Odium. For B/V lovers, I now have an almost Top 50 list of B/Vs. Submit your suggestions or reviews. For classicals, check out Grease, my B/V parody of the movie Grease. 

~Majin Niña~

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	7. My Uncle the Hero

**__**

Disclaimer: Don't need one no more. Just know this story's copyrighted to ErieDragon, though DBZ belongs to Akira Toriyama. Suckers.

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Author's Note: I know, I've been neglecting my Ona-san... I've got a PFF going with Vegeta's Gyal called Triumph of Devotion, so check it out if you want to see what's been going on. I'll be updating this still, but it's getting more and more difficult to write and keep up with my characters! Ah, well. Life goes on.

Chapter 6

My Uncle the Hero

__

Idiots. 

They're all idiots. Ona let out an exasperated sigh, floating above the trees. _I don't have time for this kind of thing._

She had been searching all day, but to no avail. The Prince seemed to have disappeared off the face of the planet!

"You immature bastard! Where are you?!" The Saiyan hollered, her voice echoing off the surrounding cliffs. The trees rattled with a slight breeze, but no sound or energy signature gave away the Prince's position. _Bulma, Bulma, Bulma,_ she thought with distaste, letting out an exasperated sigh. The forest-haired girl rose higher, scanning for any sign at all.

"Fine! You just cool your arrogant rear off and I'll go train myself!" She shouted once more for good measure, turning on her heel and speeding back to the dome-ish confines known as Capsule Corporation.

~*~

"I didn't mean to!" The blue haired woman cried, leaning on the table and sobbing. Ona rolled her eyes.

"Shut up. It doesn't matter. He'll be back," the teenager assured her hostess. 

"Not after I said all those horrible things!" Bulma whimpered, rubbing her eyes. 

"Stop being so wimpy," Ona scolded. The older woman sniffled and glanced up, her eyes bloodshot. 

"Fine. Want some lunch?" She asked, suddenly changing demeanors. The Saiyan blinked for a moment before nodding and pulling a chair up to the table.

~*~

Ona pulled her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth as she watched the dark, star-speckled night sky. 

"Hey asshole! I know you can hear me!" she cried, throwing a stick into the sea of houses beyond. Tanjua barked from his tree in the yard.

"Hiding isn't going to help you!" Ona's voice began to rise in pitch, her holler becoming more of an irate scream. "Fucking wuss!" The Saiyan let out one more screech before throwing the ripped branch of a nearby tree into the woods. 

Ona stopped, curling her knees closer and retrieving her breath. She massaged her temples with one hand, putting her other on the slick, white roof for support. 

The roof wasn't there. Instead, her hand jumped back from the soft flesh it landed on instead.

Looking up, two deep, black eyes watched her with tame curiosity. The expression hardened.

"Liar." Ona snarled, surprised back into a crabwalk position. Vegeta snickered.

"Your rants are quite interesting," he continued, glaring at her.

"What the hell is your problem?" Ona suddenly shrieked at him, peeved at having been surprised to easily. Vegeta laughed out loud, then became serious.

"If Bulma doesn't want me here, I shouldn't be. The one princely trait I've managed to retain is knowing when my welcome is worn out," he snarled, leaning against the roof. Ona sighed.

"You ass. Do whatever you want. It's not my problem," she growled, getting up. Vegeta watched her from his spot against the white shell of Capsule Corp's roof.

"By your hollering earlier, I'd think differently."

Ona turned, glaring at her unwelcome visitor. He stood up, dusting himself off. "The boy's no good," he said, before turning and taking off into the night.

The forest-haired teenager blinked, then shrugged and floated down to her room. Shaking her head, she decided the elder Saiyan was too cryptic for her health. 

Sitting on her large, luxurious bed, Ona put her head in her hands. _This planet is just too damn confusing! How do they survive?_ She let out a thick sigh, lifting her gaze to peer through her sliding glass door. _Who would know what to do. Other than Bulma, who actually knows his-prissy-highness? _Her head snapped up.

She took a few spare clothes, sticking them in a duffle bag she dug out of the house's enormous storage basement, and planned for departure early the next morning.

~*~

"Hold that thought, Chi." The doorbell rang once more, this time with more insistence. "Coming, coming!" Goku called, scratching sleep debris from his eyes as he fumbled through the darkness towards the door. 

The second he laid a hand on the latch, the door flew open. Goku leaped back, surprised he hadn't detected a power as unbridled as his niece's. Sighing, he turned on the kitchen light.

"What can I help you with at..." the tall warrior paused, focusing his eyes on the oven light. "Four in the morning?" Ona glowered. 

"Shouldn't you be up early, training?" she inquired, a hint of superiority at her early hour tainting her voice. Goku yawned and abruptly turned off the light.

"Not at four in the morning. Maybe in an hour. Come back later." Wandering back to his bedroom, Ona stood dumbfounded on the tile before grabbing him by the collar.

"OOOH no you don't!" Opening the front door, she threw the only-in-boxers-clad Goku on his haunches in the front yard. Whining profusely, the tall, black-haired man got up and began to wipe dew in vain from his already soaked "pajamas."

"Okay, okay, I'm awake! Jeez!" Goku griped, belly-aching the whole time. Ona rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, giving him an evil glare. "What do you want?"

"You should probably go tell your wife you're going to be gone all day. That boy of yours too.. And the Namek.." Ona continued, still having trouble remembering who was associated with who. 

"Why?" Ona sighed, thoroughly sick at having to explain herself every moment.

"Just do it." Goku shrugged and ran inside, an annoyed screech responding to his antics. The teenage girl laughed as her uncle came plowing through the kitchen, eyes wide.

"She said it's fine," he said between panicked breaths. "Where to?" Ona rose into the air. 

"See the sun rise?" A small smile crept onto the older Saiyan's lips. 

"Been a long time since I've done that."

~*~

Goku leaned back against a sapling, a small aspen he had opted for when they landed. The sky was turning from the deep navy of the night into the blazing greens and reds of dawn. Ona was stretched out some feet away, watching the distant mountains with wide eyes. Obviously, the mountain sunrise was much different than anything the teenager had ever witnessed.

A small, yellowy-orange sliver began to slide between two peaks, causing the forest-haired Saiyan to gasp. Goku let out a small chuckle, drawing Ona's awed gaze to himself. 

"Different out here than the city, eh?" He chuckled. Ona nodded silently, looking back to the distant ridges and raising her elbows to a more comfortable position in the grass. "What did you bring me all the way out here for anyway? Not like I don't enjoy it, of course!" Goku corrected himself, grinning with his I'm-so-guilty-I-could-cry grin.

"It involves Trunks." He froze, then shot her a petrified stare. "Bulma went spastic the other day on Vegeta. Now he won't come back." Ona gauged his reaction, which consisted of turning back to the sunrise and sighing.

"It will happen how it happens. Just don't interfere.. They'll find their own way." The teenager glanced up at her uncle, a bit surprised at his wise response. Goku turned, smiling at her. "Why, are you concerned?"

Ona's face turned bright red. She fought it back, scowling. "Of course not! But it's interfering with both Vegeta and mine's training." He laughed heartily, leaning back. Ona took on a more thoughtful expression.

"What I don't understand is, why does he want to "surpass" you so much? He is the Prince, and stronger than you or me," she asked, sighing in exasperation. Goku chuckled again.

"Beats me. It probably has a bit to do with him almost defeating me when we fought for the first time," he replied, crossing his arms behind his head for extra comfort. 

"Almost? He said he beat you within an inch of your life, but was merciful because you were decently strong." Goku watched her expression for a moment, and realizing she was completely serious, burst into a fit of childlike giggles. "What?"

"Do you want to hear what really happened?" Ona shot him a quizzical expression.

"What do you mean? Was he lying?" she asked, looking skeptical that Vegeta would throw her such a bluff. Goku held in another chuckle.

"Well.. um.. Yes." Her eyes grew wide, but he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'll tell you what really happened."

~*~

The sun was beginning to peak, Ona's attentive face bathed in what should've been noonday light, if it hadn't been for the fact it was summer. It was still around ten o'clock in the morning, but the teenager had been so enraptured by the tale Goku told, she had forgotten about time completely.

"...that's when Namek blew. I barely got Vegeta's old pod before it turned to smithereens. I think you know what happened after that." Ona blinked a few times, attempting to re-hydrate her wide eyes. 

"I had no idea..." Her voice trailed off. Goku grinned, clearing his throat. He had never talked for so long at one time in his life. 

Ona flopped back from her attentive position, which had succeeded in giving her a killer backache. "Not many people do, by the way," the tall, wild-haired man chuckled. His niece shot him a curious look.

"Earth. No one really knows what happened. I guess you just have to stay quiet about it," Goku continued. 

"Why? Wouldn't that make you famous or something?" He nodded.

"Do you want the billions of media reporters swarming around you?"

"No. I'd blast 'em all." Goku let out a chuckle.

"And you wouldn't survive it if you did." Ona looked at him in surprise, but turned back to the sky, which was in her direct line of view. 

"Why do you care at all? Why do you protect them?" She asked, crossing her knees and waving a bare foot in the air.

"Protect who?"

"These people. Earthlings." Goku smiled and replied instantly.

"I'm an Earthling. I protect my fellow people," he scoffed, apparently finding her question silly. Ona glared at him.

"You're not an Earthling! You were born on Vegeta-sei! You would give all that up to protect a race of weaklings?" The younger Saiyan cried, her demeanor changing completely. Goku tilted his head in confusion.

"I may be Saiyan in species, but humans are my people. You should understand that, if anyone." Ona slumped to her knees in defeat.

"That's true. I would defend the Gaijins with my life," she replied with a sigh. Goku grinned obliviously. "Though, there is one thing I find interesting about you humans. Vegeta is a hundred times stronger than Bulma, yet she defies him so easily! Why?"

"Because if he touched her, I wouldn't go so easy on him," Goku replied, the answer so threatening, yet said in such an innocent matter. Ona almost laughed. Almost.

"Why does she matter so much to you? She's loud, stubborn, and well... annoying sometimes." Her kind-hearted uncle laughed.

"Because she's my best friend! Don't you protect your friends?" he asked, as if it were the simplest concept in the world. Ona blinked. "I've known her since I was five years old! First girl I ever met, in fact." Goku chuckled again at the memory, while the forest-haired teenager remained in the dark.

"That's strange.. Five years old and never met a girl?" He grinned, scratching the back of his head.

"A strange story, that..." 

~*~

The loud bark of Tanjua signaled that she had finally arrived. Swooping low enough to land on one foot, Ona balanced momentarily before leaning against a tree. The sun was already sinking, for the many of Goku's tales had given her barely enough time to get home before the light went out completely. 

The Saiyan was instantly attacked by licks and barks, her San jumping up and down.

Where have you been all day? The blue haired lady and I were worried about you! Ona laughed, petting the enormous dog.

"I was talking to Kakarot. We're going there tonight, actually. We're going to be staying there until Vegeta decides to come back," she told him, stroking his ears as she slumped against the tree. Tanjua gave her a sideways look. "Nevermind. Just let me get some things together and we can leave."

What about the blue haired lady?

"What about her?" 

Shouldn't you tell her you're leaving? The San raised an eyebrow, his long, flowing tail drifting back and forth.

"Well... Alright. Go into the house and pull out the drawers," Ona instructed, motioning towards the sliding glass door, which she opened simultaneously. The two stepped in, the enormous dog slinking off and up the stairs. Ona sat at the table, searching for Bulma's energy location.

"Why's the door wide open?" The teenager turned, her blue-haired hostess tilting her head. Noticing Ona, she perked up. "Where have you been all day?"

"Not really any of your business, but talking to Kakkarot. I just wanted to tell you I'll be staying with him as long as I have to." Bulma watched her for a moment, digesting the information before nodding solemnly. Ona knew the woman liked having another down-to-earth female to talk to, but the Saiyan carried her needs in much higher regard then anyone else's. 

"Okay. Call me if you need anything." The woman proceeded past the table at which Ona sat, taking an apple from the fruit bowl. 

The younger Saiyan stood up, putting a hand on Bulma's shoulder. "He'll be back soon," Ona assured her, turning and disappearing into the corridor before the stunned woman could respond.

~*~

Ona flew to the ground, panting heavily and collapsing to her knees. A small, black-haired boy landed in front of her, crouching low to peer underneath her veil of hair.

"You alright, Ona-san?" The older Saiyan threw her head back, glaring at her cousin.

"_Don't _call me that!" She growled, getting to her feet, her knees still shaking sporadically. Pushing past Gohan, she glared daggers at Goku, who hovered in the sky above them. He was laughing uncontrollably, with a very amused but restrained Piccolo standing next to him, arms crossed.

"You didn't have to hit me that hard, you know!" Ona yelled at her guffawing uncle, who proceeded to double up so hard he had to land, supporting himself against a tree. Piccolo was staring, snorting, while his face turned purple from holding in laughter. The teenager's glare became more deadly, even Gohan now toppled over in stitches.

Suddenly, Goku slammed headfirst into Piccolo, the two rocketing into the ground. Ona appeared in the air, grinning devilishly with the offending arm in the air as the two attempted to recover. Gohan blinked, looking between his father and cousin, trying to decide which one to support when the fight would erupt again. When both Goku and Piccolo remained grounded, Ona landed on one foot, watching the two suspiciously. 

Piccolo coughed. "Well, I think we're done for today. I could really use a drink," the tall Namek said, glancing in every direction except Ona's. Goku nodded.

"Chichi probably had dinner done by now. I don't want to be late." The two looked at each other, nodded, and took off in the direction of the Son's house. The very confused Saiyan teenager turned, eyeing her cousin. He shrugged.

"They're right, you know," Gohan said, his glance aiming up the mountain. Ona growled.

"Fine. We'll finish this tomorrow." She took off after the others, leaving an exasperated Gohan to catch up.

~*~

Ona stood outside the house, tapping her foot impatiently in the grass, three seconds away from storming down the door to Goku and Chichi's bedroom.

"They're not going to be awake for a long time yet," a husky voice said, causing Ona to jump.

"What do you want?!" She cried, glaring daggers at the snickering Namek. He shrugged.

"We're taking a day off. I'm going to go meditate, Goku's going to sleep in, and the boy's going to study. You should probably find something to do," Piccolo advised, carrying a skin filled with water over his shoulder. Ona watched him walk off for a moment, considering her options.

"Can I.. I mean, I'm coming with you," the forest-haired teenager corrected herself, putting her hands on her hips decisively. Piccolo turned, smirking inwardly.

"Just don't interrupt my concentration. Gohan will be joining us after lunch."

~*~

Ona opened her eyes, her deep emptiness of thought suddenly filled by the sights and sounds of the world around her. She blinked repeatedly, trying in vain to remember where she was or why. Her ears met with the echo of cascading water, thrumming against the smooth, river-worn rocks below. Before her deep, forest-green eyes was a veil of foaming white, casting long, twinkling rainbows across the roaring falls. In complete contrast, she could hear the sporadic tinkle of water droplets plummeting from the limestone overhang, the tiny sound ricocheting off the damp cave walls into a loud pitter-patter. 

Taking a look around her, Ona saw a tall, green Namek, floating in much the same position as herself. She couldn't remember what his name was, but he was obviously going through the same trouble taking in his surroundings, or comprehending them for that matter. 

"Piccolo?" He continued to stare ahead, as if he hadn't heard her. Ona rubbed her temples, memories and thoughts slowly coming back to her. Piccolo looked up, as if suddenly realizing she'd been speaking to him.

"Mmhmm?" The young Saiyan suddenly smirked, taking in a deep breath. The smell of pure, foaming water and damp limestone filling her nose. She stretched, her brain doing almost the same thing, as if recovering from a long, peaceful sleep, now completely refreshed. 

"That was incredible." Piccolo grinned arrogantly, yawning suddenly. His mouth became huge, sucking in an enormous breath through his sharp, white teeth. They continued to float, Ona staring at the falling water before her. She tensed her shoulders, suddenly shooting through the foam like a bullet. 

The entire area was utterly serene, covered with green grass, big, moss covered boulders and overhanging willows. The waterfall turned into a steady stream, splitting the valley in a line of lightning, turning off in small and unsuccessful tributaries. On either side of the wide basin, pine-covered mountains rose gradually into towering peaks, snowcaps ornately decorating their spindly tops. Ona stretched like a cat, her neck popping loudly as she rotated it in all directions. Looking up at the sky, she determined it was about midday, and Gohan would soon be arriving. Tanjua was sleeping peacefully some yards away, his head propped against a rock and his body shaded by the small tree that canopied over him.

"You leaving?" Ona spun, blinking up at the tall, green Namek. He raised an eyebrow to emphasize his question.

"Why?"

"Well, Gohan will be here soon, and I want to know how many little kids I have to keep an eye on today," Piccolo replied, snorting. Ona growled, but barely dodged the bait. 

"Yeah, I'm leaving, but do you know where the nearest town is?" She asked, ignoring his previous comment for the moment. He scrunched up his mouth, obviously thinking.

"I think about twenty five miles southeast. It's small, but the Western Capital is another fifty miles past it," Piccolo said at length, turning the direction he had indicated and tapping his chin. 

Ona raised her eyebrows in surprise at his ease. She had come to know the Namek as an arrogant alien, much like Vegeta, but was amazed at how calm and open he could be around prancing donkeys like Goku and his son. She had seen from the beginning Piccolo had a soft spot for Gohan, most likely from his days protecting the boy in the wilds as he trained for the Saiyans' arrival. 

The forest-haired teenager nodded, thanking him in silence before slowly rising into the sky. Piccolo turned, making his way back to the waterfall as Ona took off through the clouds.

~*~

Human habitations amazed Ona in every way. On Gaija, a few families would gather together and live on a particularly cavernous mountainside, making no changes to the land besides constructing a collective stable. The cities of Earth extended on for miles many times, brimming with impossibly tall structures and housing of every shape, size, and color. Humans bustled about the city constantly, at all times of day and in all weather. Various types of vehicles, from hover cars to wheeled monstrosities, clogged each and every one of the city's many streets. This was an amazing feat in itself due to the eight lanes many large roads consisted of. 

Ona coughed a bit, still awed at the massive amounts of pollution Earth's huge cities created. Apparently, new vehicles designed by Capsule Corporation were electric, but much of the toxic waste created by older cars still remained. 

Swooping low, the forest-haired teenager decided it would be in her best interests to remain inconspicuous. As she had discovered, Earthlings didn't normally fly, so she would have to find a way in on her own two feet. 

Ona nosedived, plummeting stealthily into a dumpster. 

"Wonderful aim," she mumbled, nursing her head. Her attempt at righting herself before landing was a total failure, which she duly noted while gripping the edge of the dumpster and flipping herself over it and onto the cement.

Now rubbing multiple scratches and bumps profusely, Ona finally got to her feet. At least she blended in. 

The teenager dusted herself off, retreating from the alley and onto the sidewalk. She took a small elastic from her pocket, pushing her wild forest green hair into a sloppy bun as she casually wove her way between the flow of oncoming walkers. 

She still wore her training clothes, which were primarily hand-me-downs from Bulma cut and sown to be better equipped for standing the ferocity of their battles. Her outfit consisted of a tattered gray sleeveless, the bottom ripped to her mid-stomach. Ona had opted for small leather straps on each side, holding the shirt to her pants. They were an old pair of hiphugger stretch jeans, the knees practically inexistent. 

She was barefoot, for her first time wearing shoes had been a disaster. The Briefs had caught the Saiyan on the couch, chewing the innocent sneakers off because the double knot Bulma had put them in wouldn't come loose.

Ona stopped, blinking at the bright sun. It was past noon, and the summer heat was beginning to get to her. The sidewalks swirled, the very air shaking from the immense temperature. Glancing back to the road, she saw the distant dome of Capsule Corporation, the white surface shimmering like water. 

Not exactly in the best of moods to deal with Bulma, Ona took a detour down the nearest off-street. Her throat was dry, her tongue constantly hydrating her chapped lips. She was already beginning to regret coming to the city, but pressed on when remembering her motivation. 

A small sign hung before her, completely dead as it drifted limply from its support beam. Ona had never succeeded in learning Earth's written language, so she used the picture of a glass cup on the main sign as an invitation. She opened a small, wooden door and stepped inside, her senses flooding with the smells and sounds.

The inside was dark, making the wooden bar off to one side barely visible by multiple dim, hanging lamps. The dank, wooden room was full of pool tables, the green vinyl of their surfaces dull and worn to a deep gray. The sporadic click of cues hitting unsuspecting pool balls could be heard all around, usually followed by some sort of obscenity. The bar was quiet for the most part, the bartender standing off to one side as he cleaned out a dull yellow glass with a rag. Two of the five barstools were occupied by a collapsed drunk, whose fitful snoring could be heard from the entrance where Ona stood.

A few heads looked up to acknowledge the new arrival, then went back to what they were doing. A few whispers could be heard, but the mostly-male occupied room ignored her for the most part. The forest-haired teenager sat at the bar, the afro-haired bartender approaching her.

"Excuse me, miss... How old are you?" Ona squinted at the dark man, tilting her head.

"Well, I was five when I lived on Gaija. My little brother was born a year after I arrived, and he was nine when I left. I have no idea how long it took me to get here." She looked up at the wide-eyed bartender. 

"Well, um, okay. What would you like?" 

After a few drinks, Ona sighed and leaned against the bar, propped on her elbow in resignation. The alcohol didn't affect her system nearly as much as it would for a human, so the fact she was still awake caused numerous curious looks from the other drinkers. 

"O-o-oe-na?" A muffled sniffle questioned. The teenager's head shot up, staring around to see who had recognized her. Her eyes landed on a tall, scar-faced man, who tilted his head and tucked his pool cue under one arm as he walked over.

"What are you doing here?" Ona asked suspiciously, taking the still unconscious man beside her and propping him against the bar so she could use one of his two barstools. Yamcha sat beside her, leaning on the bar and sighing. 

"Getting away." The teenager tilted her head, signaling the bartender.

"Get this man a shot. I'm paying," she instructed, turning her attention back to the scruffy man beside her. His "five o'clock shadow" was already past evening, and his hair was tussled all about his head. Yamcha looked at her and smiled, wiping sleepy seeds from his eyes. 

"Thanks," he said quietly, turning back to looking straight ahead, gaze focused on nothing in particular.

"You look horrible," Ona informed him as the bartender clicked a small shot glass against the wooden bar.

"Thanks." The forest-haired girl stifled a snort, and tapped her fingers on the wood to get his attention.

"What happened to you?" She asked. Yamcha looked up, weary and tired.

"Bulma broke up with me." Ona sucked in air, stopping herself from telling him she already knew. 

"Drink up." The scar-faced man looked up, his lip curling in a half smile. She nodded towards the shot glass, Yamcha hastily picking up the small object and twirling it in his fingers before taking a sip. 

"You know what though... She's so right," he muttered, putting the amber glass on the counter. Ona raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" Yamcha chuckled half-heartedly, his voice quivering. 

"She was right about everything!" He cried suddenly, slamming his glass on the bar. Ona leaned back in surprise, and he softened his expression. "She was right about me.. She caught me with Ruri.. I didn't deserve her." Yamcha looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Ona shivered, lightly patting his shoulder. She glanced around nervously, not used to the art of comforting people.

"I need to get my head out of the clouds, she said.. She said she wasn't the girl for me.. Who is for me?!" He continued. His arm shook, trembling fingers clasping the shot glass in front of him. "Ten years?! TWENTY?!" Yamcha threw the glass across the room, which shattered against the far wall. The other occupants of the bar looked up, but seemed disinterested. Things like it must happen all the time.

"Yamcha. Why did you see other women, when you were with her?" Ona asked quietly, trying to calm down the twitching man. 

"I.. I don't know. I didn't know what I had." He looked at her, his eyes slit in a vain attempt to prevent his imminent tears. 

"When you find your girl, you will know what you have." She smiled, patting his arm and standing up. "Don't be here. You must have a game tomorrow, right?" Yamcha nodded quietly, getting up, somewhat shaky. 

"Ma'am.. Your tab-" Ona grabbed the bartender by the collar.

"I'll send it in. Give the bill to Capsule Corp." His eyes widened.

"Um, yes miss.. What's your n-name?" 

"Put the bill under Ona. Give them this note too," she instructed, taking a pen from the bartender's pocket as she put him back down. She scribbled on his order form and tucked it into his pouch. "Thanks." She took a stunned Yamcha by the arm, pushing him out the front door.

~*~

"Bulma? There's something here I want you to explain," Dr. Briefs called, Bulma poking her out the door of her lab. Coming down the stairs, the doctor handed his daughter a small piece of paper scribbled in something unidentifiable.

"Hm. Looks like it's written in.. Saiyan?" She furrowed her brow, then looked up in surprise.

__

Bulma,

This is the bill for breaking that weakling's heart. Thanks for the drink.

-Ona.

"What is it, dear?" Dr. Briefs asked. Bulma chuckled, throwing the paper over her shoulder and heading back up the stairs to her lab, slamming the door.

Vegeta walked into the kitchen just at that moment, raising an eyebrow before spotting the note on the floor. Picking it up, his eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his glance turned to the lab, before he erupted in laughter.

"Oh honey, you're home!" Vegeta's eyes widened as he was tackled by an everlastingly happy Mrs. Briefs.

~*~

**__**

Author's Note: I know it's not as long as my others, but that just seemed like an ingenious place to end it. I know this took a while, but I've gotten massive inspiration back, and, well, the next chapter should be much more exciting. :)

****

Dedications: Vegeta's Gyal - As always, you are an awesome friend and inspiration. Thanks for always being there for me.

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Plugs: For all those fans of both mine and Vegeta's Gyal's work, check out our PFF (Party Fanfiction), "Triumph of Devotion," by Kerurshi. 

Have a nice day.


	8. Earth's the Place

**__**

A/N: As everyone SHOULD know, it's not necessary to post a disclaimer on every chapter. Also, these chapters may be coming out slowly, but I'm working harder on them and still doing three other stories. Ahm.. Yah. Soon I will be posting a list of the rest of the Radditz Bloodline Saga books, and then all the linking books to the second saga, "Space Monkey." Yep. It'll be that long. ^_^

Chapter 7

Earth's the Place

"TRUNKS! Where have you BEEN?!" The tall, lavender haired boy spun too quickly, tripping on the time machine's outstretched metal foot. He plummeted face first into the dirt, someone violently grabbing onto his pantleg. Nose bumping against various objects, arms waving in the air uselessly, Trunks was dragged onto a cold, hard floor.

"MOOOOOM!" He let out a shrill whine, hands splayed on the blackened tile. Getting up, he held his nose with one hand and cleared dirt from his eyes with the other, keeping his fluttering gaze on his mother. Bulma stood, her faded blue hair in a sloppy ponytail, and a very displeased frown etched onto her face. She tapped one finger expectantly on the table, her other hand resting on her hip. 

Trunks lowered his gaze, tucking his arms behind his back. The one person he hated to face in a situation like this was his mother. 

"I asked you once, I'll only ask you one more time. Where. Have. You. Been?!" she shrieked, sending shivers up his spine. 

"Assessing the android situation," Trunks replied coolly, keeping his eyes everywhere except his mother.

Bulma snickered. "Don't lie. I forbid you from going back until the time the Androids arrive." The boy's mouth dropped open, his eyes widening. 

"But-" Trunks was cut off.

"No buts about it! You should be training, not being flirtatious!" Bulma eyed him, moving away from the table towards a brewing pot of coffee.

The tall, blue eyed boy sighed, sitting on a rickety chair beside the counter. Outside, the sky was a bleak gray, thick with the smoke of a thousand devastated cities. Various fires still billowed up all about them, but Bulma's bunker had kept the two secluded from harm since the initial attack. 

Setting a cup of steaming coffee in front of him, Bulma took a seat across the table. She sipped it in silence, her eyes trained on her son, whose gaze portrayed his distant thoughts. She knew it was wrong to keep him here, where no real world existed, but her sense of logic knew that her machine was not built for rapid travel. 

A sudden explosion rocked the ground, Bulma clutching the table for support. A porcelain vase tipped off a shelf, shattering across the tile. Trunks snapped out of his trance, looking at the white, broken pieces scattered across the dank floor. 

Bulma looked up, just in time to dodge another falling object. The loud splitting of glass reverberated off the walls, an empty, wooden frame skittering across the ground. Trunks got to his feet, Bulma too shocked to move. 

Picking up the frame, he almost dropped it once more. It must have become blended into the scenery of the dugout, for he could swear he'd never laid eyes upon it before.

Standing around, full of smiles, were Goku and Chichi, the former blushing as he held his wife with one arm. The other rested on the head of his son, Gohan, his black hair sticking out in every direction much like his father's. On one side of the happy family stood Bulma, one arm hidden behind a large blot of white. Yamcha's hair could still be seen standing up over the top of the white-out. Tien, Chaotzu, and Krillin stood on the other side, the rear of the picture completed by Piccolo, arms crossed. 

There was someone missing!

Throwing the frame to the ground, Trunks gritted his teeth and stomped out of the room. Bulma blinked in confusion at the sudden outburst. Shaking it off, she got up to clean up the various pieces of fragile ornament littering the tiled floor.

~*~

The morning was still heavy with dew, the pine covered mountains gleaming in the humid air. A group of crows squawked overhead, their black bodies shining a bright ebony in the ruby light of dawn. Commotion below interrupted the serenity of this daybreak, nocturnal animals returning early to bed from the racket. Humans bustled back and forth, the smell of bacon and eggs filling the chilly air. Clouds sniffed the rising smoke, fleeing to the mountains to allow a bright, blue sky to reign, fitted with amber streaks.

Below swirling bands of birds and thin, renegade mists sat a house, clearly Capsule in design. Standing out front the igloo-like entrance stood two young Saiyans, a large, black-maned dog chasing various field animals a few feet away. 

"You're leaving?!" A sharp tug on her shirt finally caught Ona's attention. Gohan stared up at her with wide, watery eyes, fingers clutching the white fabric of her outfit.

"Let me go, and yes. I said I would go back to Capsule Corporation as soon as Vegeta returned. It seems he's decided to be a little more domestic," the older Saiyan replied composedly, brushing her fingers through her forest-green hair before slinging a duffel bag over her shoulder. Tanjua barked, bouncing up to his mistress and nudging her hand with his big, wet nose. Gohan petted the giant animal's ear, smiling as the San turned and tackled the little boy with licks.

Goku stepped out of the small house, a huge fish still flopping in his arms. Ona's eyes widened, more-so when the fish came flopping through the air and straight at her face. She dodged just in time, grabbing the slimy creature's tail in one hand.

"KAKKAROT! What the HELL was that?!" Ona cried, holding the wiggling fish in front of her as if it would sting her at any moment. Gohan burst into laughter, Goku watching her with a confused expression.

"It's a fish. I thought you might need something to eat, since you're missing Chichi's awesome breakfast!" he informed her cheerily, his niece rolling her eyes. 

"That's really alright. I'll survive just fine," Ona assured him, her voice reeking of sarcasm. Goku, of course, missed it completely.

He knitted his brows, then smiled. "Alright!" Bouncing back into the house like a five-year-old, Goku's apparent carefree demeanor was corrupted instantly when Chichi let out a loud screech. Running out the front door came the older Saiyan, blowing air on his hands frantically. Ona could distinctly smell the hot grease covering the poor man, and grinned. 

"What'd you do this time?" she asked casually, Goku stopping his frantic fanning to glare back into his house. 

"Those eggs looked SO good!" he cried in defense. Gohan stood a few feet off, face red from holding in laughter. 

The party was interrupted thankfully, when Piccolo dropped in. Landing next to Gohan, he adjusted his obviously weighted turban over his antennae. 

Gohan looked up curiously at his mentor, smiling. "What are you doing here, Mr. Piccolo?" he asked innocently, earning a slight smirk from the nasty old Namek. Rather than gracing the boy with a response, he walked towards Ona and crossed his arms, standing far enough that he could look her in the eye. 

"You're coming with me, I take it?" she asked speculatively, looking at Piccolo from the corner of her eye as she turned to Tanjua. Slinging the duffel bag over the San's high wither, she jumped onto his back and glanced at the group. 

Piccolo nodded, both Goku and Gohan looking at him in surprise. Ignoring them momentarily, Piccolo nodded and walked towards the teenage Saiyan and her mount. 

Suddenly, the front door burst open, and Chichi rushed out. Grabbing Ona's hand, the woman smiled. "Watch yourself out there!" she instructed the younger girl, patting her palm before disappearing back into the house. The two foreigners raised an eyebrow in synchronism, Goku chuckling to himself.

"Have a good ride, and give Vegeta my.. my regards!" he said, waving to Ona. She smiled a bit, watching as her uncle picked up his son, propped him on one shoulder, and disappeared back into the house.

~*~

"What did you want to talk about?" Ona asked, breaking the silence at last. They had been running for some time, slow enough that Tanjua got some exercise, and fast enough that they wouldn't be going for the next two months. 

"Why are you going back to Capsule Corporation? Why is Vegeta so important to you?" Piccolo inquired, his voice attempting to not betray his deeper curiosity. Ona tilted her head, loosening her grip on the San's mane.

"He's not useful for anything besides training me," she replied at last, keeping her eyes on his. Piccolo suddenly chuckled.

"You know what's funny, is that you're completely telling the truth." Ona nodded slowly, confusion plainly written on her smooth features. 

"Why would I lie about it?" she asked, obviously bewildered. 

Piccolo snorted. "I don't know, I suppose. Saiyans like you and him usually deny your feelings," he conceded, furrowing his brows and shifting his focus to the path ahead. Ona chuckled.

"Vegeta will deny his feelings all he wants. I have no feelings to deny," she said, the truth in her voice ringing clear as a bell. Unused to such bluntness, Piccolo rubbed his forehead with one long-nailed finger, smoothing a thoughtful crease in his brow.

The landscape was changing more and more rapidly, the once green, jagged rocks of the mountains drooping into hills of brush and weeds. The area was littered with the remains of numerous fires, if the various logs of charcoal scattered about were any indication. Tanjua skipped pleasantly over every obstacle, from prickly pine to boulder. 

"What I don't understand is, why are you going back?" Piccolo asked, splitting the silence. "Surely we are enough of a challenge for you," he added, his words dripping with sarcasm and tinged with amusement. Ona smirked.

"No. Vegeta and I are a symbiosis... He knows me well enough that we train well together. I belong with real Saiyans," she replied, her voice becoming husky as her eyes dropped to the ground. Piccolo raised an eyebrow, slowing down to match Tanjua's receding speed. He seemed to catch on easily to his mistress' moods, adding to Piccolo's firm belief that the two could speak telepathically. The Namek had first started noticing it not too long ago, when they were sparring and Ona merely looked at the San. He had gotten up and walked off, coming back not much later with Gohan clinging to his mane for dear life.

"I'm.. I'm starting to understand you. While you are training with Vegeta.." Piccolo paused, Ona raising her gaze and raising an eyebrow in question. Regaining a bit of confidence, he smirked at her. "If you would like to spar with me every once in a while," he asked at last. Ona, in vain, attempted to keep a smile from spreading across her face.

"Um.. I'd like that.. Why me, though?" Eyebrows lowering evilly, she added, "Surely they are enough of a challenge for you." Piccolo snorted, stopping suddenly.

"You're stronger than you let on, and you have more potential than anyone I've met," he said suddenly, turning on his heel and heading the other direction, waving.

Ona blinked, watching him disappear in a white streak. 

"What was that all about, Tanjua?" she asked, a bit rhetorically.

Didn't you notice the way they looked at you when you lost your temper? he countered, smirking as only Sans could. Ona snickered.

"Let's go home."

~*~

"Ona!" The teenager turned, raising an eyebrow as she hopped from Tanjua's back. Bulma came thundering from the open kitchen door, running up to the two new arrivals. "Where have you been?!" she cried, suddenly throwing Ona into a large hug. Eyes widening, the Saiyan slowly pried the blue-haired woman off.

A gruff voice cleared its throat, drawing the attention from both women. Vegeta stood, face in his trademark scowl, and his arms crossed in front of his chest. His clothes were tattered, smoke rising out of the ominous gravity room behind him. He raised one eyebrow at the exchange before him, a small leaf toppling onto him from an overhead tree.

"Where have you been?" Vegeta asked in a low, warning tone. Bulma's eyes widened, and she hurriedly set to putting Tanjua to work inside the house. Ona watched her leave with dismay, then turned back to him.

"I could ask the same for you," she retorted, propping one hand on her hip. 

"I'm not telling if you don't," he replied, neither recognizing the childish meaning in his words with his rough edged voice.

"Me neither."

"Hmph."

"Hmph." They turned their backs to one another, each crossing their arms and sticking their nose in the air. 

Bulma peered out the sliding glass door, bursting out laughing. Neither noticed, the two Saiyans glaring at each other from the corner of their eyes.

"You probably want to train," Vegeta said, still keeping his back to her. 

"Yeah. So what?" Ona's tail tightened its grip around her waist, the end twitching in irritation.

"I'm going to the GR," he added, still unmoving.

"Me too. Get out of my way," Ona replied. They turned at the same time, arms still crossed, and walked side by side towards the small, white ship.

Bulma blinked, taking her excuse for watching this turn of events off the window pane, grinning and wringing out the unused rag in the sink.

~*~

Trunks sat on the front step, running a finger along the tiny grooves in the cement. They pricked his skin, drawing him into deeper concentration on the mundane activity. His mind began to wander back to the photo, focusing onto the two empty spaces left as he merged the image with his memory of the fighters. He could understand why Vegeta was not in the picture, but Ona? _How come mom didn't remember her? _

Rubbing his temples, Trunks rose from the step, his feet shakily crunching bits of debris all about the mutilated sidewalk. He walked to the still crackling time machine, running a hand along the small letters his mother had written not too long ago. _Hope!!._ Ona. Ona was his hope; she had the fire to grow strong, and the heritage to rise to new levels. Still confronted with the mystery of her past, Trunks was slowly putting together the pieces. All he needed was to ask her a question or two, and train her! 

Clenching his fist at his side, Trunks' eyes squeezed shut in frustration. _There must be something I can do... I'm almost eighteen anyway! Mother can't dictate me anymore, _he thought at last, slamming a fist into the wall defiantly. 

"Tonight," he said aloud, "I will do everything in my power to ensure the safety of my past..." he trailed off for a moment. "And my future." 

~*~

In complete silence, the Saiyan tiptoed down the hall from his bedroom, the door slightly ajar. A soft starlight trickled in through the high rectangular window, the room lit by little glow-in-the-dark stars that his mother had taped on the walls when he was a child.

Trunks made his way into the kitchen, the tile floor squeaking slightly with his each step. Then it occurred to him.

Raising off the ground, he floated slowly out the door, keeping his energy at the minimum. Quietly closing the metal barrier behind him, Trunks took a small capsule out of his pocket and threw it. A cloud of smoke appeared, billowing into the air in puffs of orange and yellow, finally dispersing in the cool night breeze. 

Climbing into the time machine, Trunks switched on the main control panel. The machine came to life, whirring and purring quietly enough that he would be long gone if his mother did wake up. 

Entering the date, the Saiyan engaged the capsule, closing his eyes in anticipation. It hummed to life, suddenly sputtering as the LCD display flashed bright green letters.

"...Error..?" Trunks read aloud, eyes widening. "That's strange.." Setting the date ahead a month, he tried again, but the machine responded with the same message.

"MOM!" he cried in realization, slamming a fist into the control panel. It shuddered, the display flickering in response. _I can't override her coding, _Trunks admitted to himself, running his fingers along the various buttons used to operate the capsule. He advanced the destination by a month, trying once more. Nothing.

Letting out a howl of frustration beneath the soundproof glass dome, he slammed his spread hands into the display, withdrawing them and nursing a throbbing finger that had, by mishap, jammed itself into a large, red button. 

The machine clicked, the months suddenly starting to spin. The date came to a halt thirty-no.. twenty nine?- months ahead, the digital display reading "ENGAGED" in large, neon letters. Trunks' eyes widened as the machine lifted off the ground, disappearing in a bright flash of light.

Bulma stood at her window, sighing to herself as the capsule left. She had tried.

~*~

Ona growled, pacing back and forth. She had been waiting since sunup for Trunks, and the sky was already a deep maroon and sprinkled with golden stars. The fading light was sliced by the jagged cliffs, the angry Saiyan's body moving like an illusion along a high plateau. She had figured that he had just forgotten where they were supposed to meet, so she had climbed higher to get a full view of the area. 

After ten hours of pacing, her shins began to protest, so Ona sat on the edge of the immense mesa. Her feet dangled above a thousand foot drop, the immense height not bothering the tailed creature in the least. Her forest hair blew out of its restrictive ponytail, brushing across her cheeks as the wind picked up slightly. Her sporty exercise shirt ruffled about her stomach as she picked dirt from her jeans, which had been severed at the knee with a crude pair of scissors. 

Tanjua slept not too far away, nose hidden beneath one of his immense paws. The San had been waiting patiently all day with his friend, but had finally dozed off when Ona ceased responding to him.

The last rays of sun began to disappear off the horizon, stars peeking their way through the fading light. The valley below was completely enveloped in darkness, giving Ona a chill up her spine.

__

Well, I don't think he's coming. I'll wait a little longer, I guess...

~*~

Bulma talked away, pouring some coffee for the two men sitting at her table. The shorter, bald one was guzzling it down, paying no heed to the taller, scar-faced man beside him.

Bulma and Yamcha had reconciled on friendly terms, and only friendly terms. Ironically, it was by Yamcha's choice, though he was still sour over being dropped. 

"Well boys, what are you doing today, beside taking a break from training?" the blue haired hostess asked cheerily, pausing for a moment to fluff her curly, broccoli-like mane. She leaned one arm against the counter, watching the stoic Yamcha with interest.

"Well, we were thinking of-" Krillin was cut off by the sliding glass door flying open, slamming heavily into the wall. Ona walked in, hair unusually flat, and eyes narrowed dangerously. Bulma scurried out of her way wide-eyed, as the teenager practically ripped the door off the refrigerator.

"Bulma," she said huskily, "where in HELL is the CEREAL?!" Each of the room's three other occupants shrunk back in fear.

"In.. the pantry.." Bulma replied, shuffling towards the large cupboard. She reached inside hesitantly, setting a box of "Sugar O's" on the countertop. Ona nodded a silent thanks, grabbing the box and disappearing back out the sliding glass door.

"Well.. that was interesting," Krillin said after a moment, straightening himself in his chair. Bulma nodded in agreement.

"If you ask me-"

"Which we didn't," Bulma put in.

"-she needs some time off from that Vegeta character," Yamcha finished, shooting his former girlfriend a haughty look. She snorted and turned back to disposing of her mother's "Super Spectacular Special Cupcakes." Yamcha sighed, watching the young Saiyan disappear into the gravity room. 

"You have a point there, Yamcha," Krillin said quietly, avoiding the ears of the irritated Bulma. "Maybe we can offer her something?" This earned the monk a bewildered and surprised expression from his fellow fighter. "Not like _that_, you sicko." 

"But, maybe you're right. What would appeal to a Saiyan, though?" Yamcha asked, scratching his chin. Bulma had growled at the both of them before disappearing into her lab upstairs.

"Especially a _teenage, female_ Saiyan," Krillin interjected. They nodded in synchronism. 

The two men tapped their fingers on the table in silence, until Yamcha suddenly sprung to his feet.

"Why don't we ask her to train with US?!"

~*~

"What? Why? Vegeta's stronger than the both of you put together," the forest-haired girl scoffed. Krillin sent Yamcha a pathetic look.

"...SO?! There's more to life than power and training," the tall warrior replied. Ona's eyebrows rose visibly. "You need to take a break. Relax. When you rest, it doubles the effect of a workout," Yamcha said in a knowing voice. 

"It's only increased by one third, Ya-" Krillin was interrupted by getting kneed in the leg. 

"Oops! I'm so sorry, Krillin!" Yamcha cried sarcastically, which, coincidentally, escaped Ona completely. 

"Sure you are," Krillin muttered.

"Well.. I guess it wouldn't hurt to get away for a while. I do want to learn more about Earth," she said speculatively. 

The two had approached her early the next day, before she started training. The Saiyan tended to be less grumpy before training with Vegeta than after. She had one arm propped against a tree, while Yamcha and Krillin hovered a ways up while wearing their casual clothes. Today was obviously one for the town.

"Then let's go!" Krillin said, grabbing Ona by the hand. She let go of her tree in surprise, being carried off over the Capsule Corporation building.

Vegeta stood, propped against the GR. He had been waiting to have a talk with Ona, but she _obviously_ had had other plans. Growling, the older Saiyan stalked off into the training machine.

~*~

A loud belch echoed down the corridor, the front door slamming right after. 

"Oh man, *hic* that was fun.. *hic* Whoa....." Yamcha's eyes rolled back as he slumped against the wall. Ona raised an eyebrow, picking up the black haired man. Krillin was in a similar mode, but not nearly as severe. The entryway of the house was pitch black, but Ona's keen eyes picked up the faintest glimmer of light. Apparently, nightlights still reigned this house.

"I take it you guys are spending the night?" she asked, the Saiyan's voice itching with irritation. The monk nodded, moseying his way towards the couch on unbalanced feet. Ona sighed, propping the unconscious Yamcha on one knee. Seeing nowhere to put him, she carried him up the stairs and into her room.

"Well, we had fun, didn't we?" he said, slightly opening one eye. Ona glared, dropping him unceremoniously on her bed.

"I suppose." Yamcha snorted.

"Will you train with us, then?" he asked, obviously too sloshed to even deliver the question tactfully. Ona raised an eyebrow.

"Why not? I guess," she replied, sitting against the wall on the far end of the room. Yamcha nodded, instantly drifting off in a cluttered mess on her nice, white sheets.

Ona growled, closing her eyes and crossing her arms as she drifted off.

~*~

Bulma walked down the hall towards the library, yawning. She had endured another day of absolutely nothing to do, merely watching the men train, or her father work on another invention, or her mother cook. She felt so useless, she had decided a nice book might cheer her up.

Upon walking into the library, the blue haired woman was greeted with a surprise. Sitting on the large, soft leather chair was Ona, holding a small book upside-down in her hands. She was pushing each page with her index finger, as if expecting a reaction beside the paper crumpling.

"Um.. Excuse me," Bulma said, approaching her. Ona glanced up.

"Oh, it's you. What are these? What is this script?" she asked, turning back to the book in her hands. Bulma giggled, pulling up a smaller foldup chair beside the confused Saiyan.

"It's called a book. You have it upside down," she said, taking the book and flipping it over. Ona raised one eyebrow. The small fireplace was already lit, casting a strangely warm glow on the small room. Shelves covered the walls, filled by books of every color, size, and shape. 

"You read from up to down, right to left," Bulma instructed further, pointing along each character on the page. 

"Oooh.. What do the characters mean? Are they the written form of your language?" Ona asked, her genuine curiosity giving Bulma revived vigor.

"Yes. Here's what some of them mean..."

~*~

"So, what do you call this again?" Ona asked, unsticking a piece of gum from the bottom of her shoe as they progressed through the parking lot. Bulma let out an exasperated sigh.

"A mall. A SHOPPING mall. You go in, you shop at different stores, you eat, and you leave," she replied, ushering the forest-haired Saiyan through the door, which slid open when they approached.

"Wow.. Such interesting technology. So pointless, when it could be used on so much more valuable ideas and projects," Ona commented, giving the little red eye on the sliding door a cold glare. "What are we here for, again?" Bulma stopped herself from ripping out her hair. She struggled to remember that the Saiyan's overflow of information in the past week was just causing her to be a little lightheaded.

"We're going to look at some reading glasses for you, and get you a makeover!" the blue haired woman cried, pointing towards the off-road from the food court. 

"Alright.. But I hope it doesn't take too long. I took a month off of training with the four boys for this stuff," Ona informed her, crossing her arms and walking with her nose in the air. Bulma scoffed.

"I don't think it will take _that _long. We should be done in a few hours," she said, snorting. 

"Well, when I get these 'reading glasses,' will you teach me to read your language completely?" Ona inquired, taking curious peeks into the various brightly-lit shops. 

Bulma raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "I guess so. Why are you so interested?" 

"I'm not sure. You humans are very intriguing creatures, and I guess.. I guess I just want to know how you came to be as weak and stupid as you are," Ona replied. Bulma blinked at the seriousness in her voice, a statement obviously not thought of as an insult by the Saiyan, but a truth.

"Oh.. well.. I have a lot of history books," the blue haired woman said, a bit flustered. Ona nodded, and they proceeded into a small eyeglass shop.

~*~

"Piccolo?" Ona asked, prodding the Namek. He groaned a bit, opening one eye.

"Damn! What is that?" he asked in annoyance, rubbing his forehead. Ona smirked.

"Bakudan? It's my attack. My mother taught it to me," she replied, twirling a small ball of energy on the tip of her finger.

"I see. Who were your parents, anyhow? I really don't know much about Saiyans, but from my knowledge, there were only four or so left when Vegeta-sei blew up. You don't seem old enough to have been born before then," Piccolo observed, his eyes clenching as he rose to his feet. Ona tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

"Well.. You probably know my father. From what Bulma tells me, anyway, you killed him." 

Piccolo's eyes widened.

"You're joking, right?" he asked, voice a bit shaky. Ona shook her head. "Oh my kami.."

"You're the only other person who knows beside Kakkarot and.. just Kakkarot. Don't tell anyone, please?" the teenager asked, leaning against a tree. Piccolo nodded slowly, still eyeing her. 

"Who was your mother, then? I can't really imagine Radditz like that, I guess," he said nervously. Ona scoffed.

"You wouldn't know her anyway. She died when I was young," she replied, but was interrupted by an immense shake of the gravity room. Glancing up, she saw smoke rising from the top.

"Looks like Vegeta's frustrated," Piccolo noted, avoiding eye contact with Ona. She nodded in reply, raising on eyebrow at the still shaking, grounded spaceship.

The Capsule Corp. building sat just past the training yard, the shiny yellowish surface reflecting a bit in the sun. The Saiyan smiled, her eyes feeling shielded from the bright light around her from the small lenses resting on her nose.

"This is an interesting human concept," Ona commented, fingering the frames. Piccolo nodded.

"They have this strange desire to use all their technology to not fix, but make up for their ailments and handicaps. It's pathetic, like they can't accept who they are," the Namek said huskily. Ona sighed.

"I can't really read without them. Not sure why. But anyhow, we should probably get back to working," she suggested. Piccolo replied with a nod, and they dove back into a series of punches, kicks, and energy blasts.

~*~

"She should be here in a few minutes," Krillin noted, tapping his brand new watch proudly. Yamcha and Tien rolled their eyes, but Chaotzu's undying interest getting the better of him as he poked like a small child at the wide, blue watchband. 

"HEY GUYS!" The cry echoed through the valley, various flocks of birds taking off into the air with a loud rush of wings. She soared up through the trees, joining the small group high in the air.

"Wow Ona! You look different! What is that you're carrying?" Krillin asked, poking at the duffel bag the forest-haired Saiyan was carrying. She glared at him in consternation, but her gaze was pulled away by the hullos of the other three men, the bag momentarily forgotten. 

"Okay, what is it? Your hair?" Tien asked, scratching his chin. Despite the fact they were 1000 feet up above the ground in the coldest region of the north mountains, the triclops insisted on never wearing a shirt. 

"No... Bulma just put some goo in it, and it flattened a bit," Ona replied, rolling her eyes. 

"I know! It's something about your eyes," Chaotzu put in, spinning in the air where the five were congregated. They hovered above a vast valley, filled with tall, black and green pine trees. The tops were sprinkled with snow, reflecting the immense white mountains all around them. The sky was gray, as always, a factor that gave the area a dark, foggy look.

"...You're close," Ona replied, attempting to keep her cool. She had been putting up with the men for three months before taking a break, only now beginning to miss training with Vegeta. But they had almost adopted her, taking her out to the tavern or buying her dinner. It was something she didn't want to pass up anytime soon.

Yamcha floated up closer examining her face.

"GLASSES!" he shouted suddenly, causing Ona to cover her ears. 

"Not so loud! And you're right," she said, rolling her eyes. Sure enough, a pair of small, ironically forest-green wires framed her eyes, the earpieces tucked neatly beneath her smooth, shiny locks of dark hair. A collared tanktop left her midriff bare, a pair of shorts coming up to right below her bellybutton. Her shin and bicep muscles had obviously strengthened in the past month, and her face had cleared of its mild acne. The most intriguing thing to the four men hovering around her was the relaxation of her eyebrows. Her eyes were passive, and she had a small smile on her face.

"What happened to you?" Krillin asked suddenly, poking her face. Furrowing her brow, she shoved him off. 

"What do you mean?" Ona countered.

"You just look so different.. in every way," Tien observed. 

"I _have _been gone for a month," she replied, eyeing the two. 

"Why are you wearing glasses?" Chaotzu interrupted, approaching and examining the fashionable spectacles.

"Because Bulma figured out I can't read without them, and I thought they looked good on a regular basis," Ona replied, fingering the pretty wire frames, her long lashes barely escaping a brush against the lenses.

"It looks great on you," Yamcha said at last, smiling. Chaotzu, Tien, and Krillin turned to him with raised eyebrows, a small blush creeping onto the teenager's face.

"....Um... thank you.." Ona said sheepishly, much to everyone's surprise.

"What did you do while Tien, Chaotzu, Yamcha and I were on the mountain?" Krillin asked, descending slowly to the ground. The others followed, hovering just above the snowcapped trees.

"I worked with Bulma, and got in a few sparring sessions with Vegeta. He's been even more grumpy lately," she replied, shrugging.

"That's hard to believe," Tien commented, earning a consternated glare from Ona. Krillin grabbed the duffel bag suddenly, earning an annoyed yell from the Saiyan. 

"What's in here, Ona?" he asked, shaking the bag. Ona lunged at him, grabbing the canvas object from the monk.

"For your information, it's some stuff that Bulma bought me at the.. "mall"!" Yamcha burst out laughing, and was suddenly kicked in the knees. Avoiding gratifying Ona with a yelp, he zipped his mouth shut.

"Well, enough about that. Let's get going! I want to be ready for those big lumps of machinery!" Krillin said, popping Yamcha upside the head. Growling, the five took off into the high peaks.

~*~

**__**

Author's Note: Okay, I know this was a crappy chapter with a lot of breaks, but it's all leading somewhere. I'm just trying to build the pieces. Anyway, I'm leaving tomorrow, and I don't really have time to dedicate this and whatnot.. so just thank you to everyone who's been reviewing! It really helps. :)


	9. Hiatus Notice

HIATUS NOTICE

It was brought to my attention by Calico Avangi on FF.Net that there are still people who "check up" on The Cousin (book II of the Radditz Bloodline Saga). This is ironic, because I was just reading it today and realizing how much it sucked.

No, it will never be finished. I wrote up a few random scenes from later in "The Cousin," but I don't know if I'll ever get around to finishing/posting them. I think I just dug myself a hole in this one; I knew where I wanted to be, but had no real plan of how to get there.

I abandoned DBZ fanfiction over two months ago, and I don't plan on going back. "Even the Ruthless Fall in Love" was my official introduction into the real world of writing, and my Escaflowne fic "Beyond the Moon" is my way out. When it is completed, I'll probably leave fanfiction forever and go on to write my own original novels. For now, I have to concentrate on my sophomore year of highschool and try to get into a good college.

I hope this doesn't put a bad taste in anyone's mouth, but here was the original plan for the Radditz Bloodline Saga: every spoiler in the book, and a brief, mushy summary.

The Cousin was intended to continue on with a brief romance between Trunks and Ona before the arrival of the Androids. Events were changed considerably, of course, and Android 19 was destroyed when he first arrived on South Island, since Ona had posted sentry there for at least a month. Android 20 was quick enough to awaken Androids 16, 17, and 18, but was just as easily destroyed by Vegeta. Ona is smart enough to see when Goku starts showing his first signs of illness: at least a week before the Androids arrive. He takes his medicine and fails to become too sick to fight. Vegeta manages to become a Super Saiyan months before the games, giving him time to perfect it.

This is where the plan got sketchy. Cell arrived and was confronted by most of the Z Fighters: he failed to absorb 17 or 18. 17 escaped somehow, and 18 was taken captive by the Z Fighters and eventually remained voluntarily with Krillin. 16 assisted Dr. Briefs and Bulma prior to the Cell Games.

Goku and Gohan train in the Room of Spirit and Time together, and both manage to perfect their Super Saiyan skills. Piccolo enters the room; instead of going alone (and thus fighting himself), Ona joins him. Ona is almost to the Super Saiyan level, but she can't seem to reach it. It is later discovered that Saiyans cannot transform with tails, and merely turn into Golden Oozarus (though such a thing doesn't happen to Ona, due to a lack of a moon). Afterwards, Vegeta refuses to go with his son into the ROSAT, so Trunks and Ona go two days later.

This is when it gets hot and heavy between the two. Just days before their year is up, Ona becomes pregnant. Only she is aware, of course. At this point, Vegeta has unconsciously "adopted" Ona as a kind of daughter.

The Cell Games go over without a hitch. The first up to bat is Goku, ironically. He gets wiped, followed by Vegeta and Trunks. Cell refuses to "fight a woman"; this knocks him up a few points on Ona's hate list. The Cell Jr.s are released, and are shot out of the sky by a much more highly developed Gohan. 

When all hope seems to be lost, Ona steps onto the stage. She takes advantage of Cell's disdain, and scores enough points against him to piss him off considerably. But when Ona is shot down, all hell breaks loose.

Vegeta and Trunks unknowingly team up against Cell, and manage to knock the bloody bastard out of the sky. The unlikely bond Ona formed with Tien, Chaotzu, Krillin, and Yamcha comes in handy; the bizarre quartet, along with a less-than-helpful Android 18 assist the father and son in attacking Cell from behind. Goku and Gohan get him from the front, and *poof*; Cell's dead.

I'm not a strategist. I know. I specialize in plot weaving and romance; that's all. I could never pull off writing anything like that, because it would just be too hole-y. 

Post-Cell Games is a disaster waiting to happen. Vegeta knows of Ona's pregnancy, but when confronted, she finally coerces him into not telling anyone about it. She doesn't want to bind Trunks to her time, and believes he should return home and protect what is left of the future. Without knowing anything of this, Trunks bids them all a sad farewell and disappears forever.

Vegeta at first tries to disown Ona, but is instead roped into taking care of her when the pregnancy makes her deathly ill. An unlikely friend comes back full force to help out: Yamcha. He quits his baseball career to take care of her 24/7; after the birth of the little full-Saiyan (yeah, it's a genetics thing. There's a 3/4 chance the child will be fully Saiyan) boy, Britain, Yamcha takes up his job again but devotes himself entirely to taking care of his friend and her baby. Vegeta is disgusted with the whole thing and makes a competition out of being a "fatherly figure" for little Trunks.

Eventually, Yamcha and Ona hit it off enough that Yamcha takes fathership of Britain. The boy teams up with Goten (who has Goku as a full time father as well.. Go dads!) and Trunks to be the "Terrible Trio." This is when book III, "Last Blast Warrior," rolls around.

A lot of bizarre things go down. Britain learns inadvertently from Vegeta that Yamcha isn't his real father. The boy begins to hate his "father" for lying to him, and his mother for the same reason. With his help, Buu is defeated early on. But when Britain reaches teenager-hood, his anger at not knowing anything about himself leads to him trying to blast everyone away. When he fails, he disappears for ten years.

Ona's health is failing (but she still looks 20), and Yamcha's getting on in years (people are beginning to mistake them for father and daughter, causing rips in their relationship). When Britain abruptly returns with a seven-year-old half-human daughter in tow, everything is turned upside-down. Her source is mostly unknown: it appears to be the result of an unprotected prostitute, who Britain later killed in a rage about it.

The little girl's name is Cinda. Britain has long since gone insane; in order to protect Ona and Yamcha, Goku and Vegeta transport him to the Supreme Kai's planet in hopes the other-worlders can salvage him.

Cinda is immediately befriended by her "uncles" Trunks and Goten. Bra is seven years older than she, and Pan ten years older (leaving them at 14 and 17). This marks the beginning of the second saga, "Space Monkey." Cinda is on a mission: to find her father. No one has the heart to tell her everything about him (he had a good soft spot for her, even in his insanity, and always treated her like a princess), so she sets her sights on going into space. I tried to think of a silly rip-off of GT; Vegeta and Pan inadvertently tag along with Cinda on her little quest. They run into a long-frozen Turles, whose desire to kill is slowly overrun by a ridiculous protectiveness for the little Saiyan girls. They run into a half Saiyan boy, who turns out to be the result of one of Brolli's "attacks." They encounter many stupid things in the universe, including a race of two-foot-tall people, a shape-shifting woman whose only designs are to enslave men (her sights are set on Turles and Vegeta), a band of space pirates consisting of all that remains of Frieza's men, and a bunch of other equally ridiculous things.

That was the plan. Nothing ever came of it, of course. I'm not sure yet if I would be willing to give this story to anyone to continue: if someone has reasonable skill and thinks they can make this nice little saga become something, feel free to give me a ring at either my email: maxchick@mad.scientist.com or on my AIM name erie chan.

Thanks for all your reading.

Sincerely,

Erie Dragon.


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